Where the Wild Things Are
by In Somnis Veritas
Summary: AU – A stroke of luck brings together a city elf from Denerim and a Tevinter bodyguard-slave after he is abandoned by his magister.  f!Tabris x Fenris pairing. A kmeme prompt fill.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Where the Wild Things Are

Summary: AU – A stroke of luck brings together a city elf from Denerim and a Tevinter bodyguard-slave after he is abandoned by his magister. Kmeme prompt fill.

Pairings: Fenris/Non-Warden F!Tabris

Disclaimer: I do not own, I just borrow. All hail Bioware.

Warnings: Mature language and themes.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Dazed and groggy, Fenris awoke to the cooling sensation of a damp cloth being patted against his forehead. His skin felt unlike his own: hot and flushed with fever, yet cool with the chills. Fist tightly balled the thin linen sheet that covered him as a shiver wrecked through his body. It caused a searing hot pain to shoot up his side. Startled by his growl, Kallian rushed over to the bed stand table where a small bottle of anesthesia lay. She quickly poured a generous amount on a clean cloth and pressed it into the gash at Fenris' side in an effort to ward off infection and agony. Despite this, Fenris shrieked even louder at the touch of cloth to his wound. Heat spread from the injury deep into his flesh.

"There, there," a soft voice from above him cooed. "It hurts initially but it will stop soon…"

And as promised, the salve's more soothing effects set in shortly after easing the pain in his side to something more bearable. Cool even, slightly tingling. Relieved but wrought with exhaustion, Fenris drifted back into sleep, slipping in between Fade dreams and memories. His mouth was dry and throat choked up. Words lingered at the tip of his tongue but he was unable to make any out. Instead, he allowed the strange elven woman tend to him, packing his wound with poultice and wetting his lips with cubes of ice.

Though memories were still murky; images, bits, and pieces of what happened flashed through Fenris' mind as slumber took its grasp on him. The turn of events so unreal, he began questioning which were tangible and what was dream.

* * *

><p>"<em>Leave them. I can always buy more!"<em>

"_Murderous witch. Fucking cunt! I hope you rot at the bottom of the sea, 'Mistress!' You deserve to sleep with the fish!"_

_For such a small elf, she had the loudest voice he'd ever heard and she was using it to yell at the graying female magister standing next to Danarius. The mage merely laughed, flippantly toying with her hair as she ignored the spitfire elf yelling from the docks. _

"_I'll be glad to be rid of that one. Lousy cook, lousy housekeep. The ones from Ferelden are certainly the laziest and most useless."_

_She then turned to Danarius, proudly proclaiming, "Trick is to catch them young. That way you can beat the defiance out of them." Fenris could feel the muscles of his face form a frown against his will. He didn't like this woman, not in the least but he was in no position nor did he have the authority to protest._

_Danarius did not notice his bodyguard's face of disapproval, merely chuckling at the comment the mage matriarch made. He placed a possessive hand on Fenris' shoulder as their line onto the ship moved up slowly. Once it was their turn to board, they were halted by the captain of the ship. He curtly explained, "Knife-ears will cost three times the passage fee." All around him Fenris heard people grumble._

_What an outrageous tax. No wonder the spitfire was screaming herself hoarse. Was the captain blind or did he not notice an impending Qunari attack that would strike at any moment now?_

_The new development caught his master by surprise, causing him to take several moments to contemplate the next course of action. His face was unreadable as he considered how much gold his 'little wolf' was worth. Eventually several jeers from the other passengers waiting to board caused him to make it up quickly. _

"_Leave him. We'll come back for him later," Danarius commanded._

"_But… is that wise?" Hadrianna never questioned her magister before. It would've been unwise to be defiant since her livelihood and wellbeing depended on him. However, Fenris had a feeling her concern for him had little to do with his welfare and all the more to do with his utility and her fondness to torment him. He bit back a sneer at her comment, flinching ever so slightly to her touch as she pleaded with Danarius to take him aboard._

_The senior mage shot his novice a pointed look, speaking more firmly and sternly in a quiet whisper audibly declaring, "Leave him." His decision was final._

_Knowing she had overstepped her bounds, Hadrianna let go of Fenris and boarded the ship leaving them behind in the crowd of impatient people. Now left alone, __Danarius grabbed a hold of his slave, dragging him away from the prying eyes and eavesdropping ears of the ship's captain. The burly pirate simply crossed his arms and continued ushering in the wealthy and magically gifted magisters onto his vessel._

_"Behave yourself. I'll be back for you," he warned, adding with a wicked grin, "Promise."_

_With that Danarius left, abandoning Fenris on the docks. Now, for the first time in his life as a slave, he was truly alone with no master in sight to dictate his actions or feelings. Could he survive until Danarius returned? The thought was terrifying as he made his way through the crowd and off the boarding plank towards the docks._

_As the ships filled to beyond capacity, panicked elves and humans alike swarmed the docks screaming and pleading for passage on anyone's departing ships. No cries were louder than the fair-haired pixie Fenris had witnessed moments earlier yelling at her mistress. Her voice resonated above all, shaming any mage or human boarding the ferries. They had condemned their loyal servants and slaves to death by Qunari armed forces. Despite her efforts, nobody paid any mind except for Fenris, who found amusement in her cries. _

_One by one, each ship was loaded with those who could afford it, leaving the poor and enslaved behind. Fenris watched with a blank stare as his master set off without him, feeling both the twinge of abandonment as well as the slightest glimmer of hope. Dare he believe it? Could he possibly be free? For now at least. The shrill screams around him spoke volumes, shaking him from his thoughts. He looked around at the chaos surrounding him._

_The Qunari were approaching._

_Thundering roars meant they had probably already breached the city of Alam's walls. He observed the turmoil in silence. Those who'd been left behind were more frantic than ever, resorting to shoving and pushing to find other means of escape. Some even dared to jump into the chilly waters, swimming after the departing ships for the smallest chance of clinging onto its side the whole way to Minrathous. _

_The foulmouthed elf who'd been yelling earlier stood still in her spot, visibly shaking with anger as the last vessel set sail. Her blonde hair frazzled, skin flushed pink, and eyes darkened with rage. She was wrath personified and yet she had a composure about her that was uncharacteristic of the panicked townsfolk around them._

_With everyone scurrying about, it was only Fenris and Kallian left at the docks, ignoring the shoves and screams. When the ships disappeared from the horizon, she ceased yelling and let her fists fall to her sides. Moments later they turned heads, catching each other's gaze. Olive eyes met hazel ones for the briefest moment before a flash of light startled them both._

_There was silence. Everything was blurry. Everything was muted. A Qunari catapult hurled an explosive powder-filled lead cannon their way. Fenris felt himself drawn to her, rather, __**thrown**__ towards her in the combustion of the explosion. _

_The weight of his armor sat heavy on her chest and the spikes that adorned his breastplate stabbed into her, but Kallian was relatively unscathed from the attack. Fenris, on the other hand, was unlucky for the second time that day. A piece of shrapnel had pierced his side, which he initially hadn't noticed until he lifted himself up off her. The last thing he remembered was her soot covered face before the blood loss caused his vision to blur and fade into darkness._

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><p>Awoken for the second time, the conflicting smells of food and dank mildew filled Fenris' nostrils. He could faintly make out the feminine voice from earlier humming a melody but his head pounded and eyelids felt too heavy to open. Instead, he relied on his other senses to determine where he was. 'Why?' was a question to be saved for a later time. Whoever his savior or captor was, they were definitely female and young. He needed to gather as much information as he could from his senses before plotting his course of action.<p>

Their voice sounded close and familiar, which meant the space was probably a small one. The smell of mildew and musk meant it was probably old or abandoned, or both.

Fenris shifted his attention over to feel of fabric on his bare torso. This meant his armor must have been removed. He suddenly felt very uneasy; the desire for escape growing by the minute. A tentative hand slowly reached out from underneath the covers searching around his nearby surroundings. His fingers soon found a dead end hitting the wall the cot was propped against. This meant his weapon was probably out of reach too.

_Vishante._

Panic started to set in but Fenris bit his inner cheek to quiet himself. He needed a plan of action quickly, running scenarios and ideas through his head as he remained still on his back feigning sleep.

When the humming stopped, Fenris strained his ears to hear for more movement. A crackle meant a hearth was being tended to, but the dying sound of something boiling meant a pan or pot had been removed from its direct flames. He could vaguely tell whoever this person was had moved the container onto a flat table surface, and some rustling indicated she'd shifted across the room towards him.

Through the thin skin of his eyelids, Fenris could see that this person was now hovering over him. She unraveled a generous length of linen, uncorked a small bottle, and poured its foul, spicy smelling liquid onto a separate cloth. Her hand slipped off his sheet and reached for his side as she'd done several times already these past few days (unknown to Fenris). Only this time he was conscious for it and she did not know.

A voice screamed Fenris' head. _She's going to poison me!_

Using his quick reflexes, Fenris grabbed hold of Kallian's extended arm with his hand, and twisted the woman till she was on the floor bent over and on her knees. He bolted upright into a sitting position, victorious in subduing her but suddenly wrecked with pain at his side. She yelped simultaneously as he did.

Somehow, for all his keen senses Fenris let the stitched and bandaged gash in his side go completely unnoticed. His free hand immediately went to it, holding the bleeding wound as he keeled over in his little cot.

"Let me up you brute," Kallian fumed from the floor. "This isn't how you treat someone after they save your life."

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><p><em><strong>AN:**_ Reposting from Kmeme with spelling and gramatical corrections.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"I'm no healer but I reckon if you let me up, then I can… I don't know… put some medicine on that!"

Riddled with pain, Fenris let go of his vice grip on Kallian and brought both of his hands to grasp the searing hot wound on his side. Released, she scrambled to her feet in a huff, mumbling under her breath as she forcibly pushed Fenris down onto his back. He was too occupied with the pain to otherwise object, allowing her to touch him with little resistance. On any other occasion he was sure Kallian's heart would be in his hands by now.

"…last time I pull someone from… burning wreckage... damned… fool…" he heard murmured.

Before, Kallian had been relatively delicate while tending to Fenris. He had a fever, was delusional, and needed much rest and sleep. She wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. Now, flustered from their little confrontation, she worked with efficiency in disregard for bedside manners. Courtesy aside, she threw his sheet away while manhandling him onto his side to peel back his bloodied bandages. Fenris squirmed, forcing himself not to coil into the fetus position.

"Be still or you'll tear your stitches," she ordered firmly. "I don't have enough thread to give you new ones."

Fenris grunted in response, stilling himself by gripping the thin mattress of his cot. Kallian left him for a moment, returning with a basin of cool water and a clean washcloth in a matter of seconds. He bit back a hiss as she peeled away the remaining layers of bandage sticky with fluids and blood. She dropped these into a separate bucket of soapy solution before soaking the clean, spare washcloth in the water basin.

While wringing out the excess water she said, "You're lucky. The shrapnel missed all vital organs, no infection, and it looks like your fever broke… oh this morning by the looks of it."

"And you know this how?" he asked through gritted teeth, skeptical of his prognosis.

She smirked, though he could not see it.

"My mother taught me first aid. I used to help out at the Alienage clinic where I'm from."

"I doubt you've seen my kind of injury in an Alienage clinic," he spat in response.

"Then you've never lived in an Alienage before… now be quiet and hold still."

He winced as she examined the wound, feeling her little fingers poking and prodding around the gash where it was most itchy and inflamed. By the softening of her voice he assumed his stitches were in fact, intact, otherwise he was sure she'd go on another tirade about it. Fenris tried catching a glance over his shoulder to watch her work but she pushed him down to lay still. Two more failed attempts and he finally stopped trying, lying still on his side as she patted the wet cloth around his wound.

"You tore a little skin but the stitches held up. I'm going to finish cleaning it first, then repack it, and wrap new bandages around you."

_Repack what? _Fenris furrowed his brows, confused. _What on Thedas was she talking...? AHHHH!_

_**Pain!**_

She could've warned him but she didn't. He jerked his hips forward as the wet cloth touched his wound. It was out of surprise more than anything else. He'd endured pain far greater than this before.

"Hold still," she barked, pushing firmly down with her hand. She repeated this cleaning several times, wringing out the washcloth in the water basin until the water was murky with pus and blood, and she was satisfied with her work.

From behind him, Fenris could hear her rise from the chair again, taking the cloth and basin with her. Kallian returned shortly after with wet, freshly cleaned hands and a wooden spoon which she handed to him dangling above his mouth.

"Bite down," she offered.

He could see in the dim firelight the handle was riddled with several bite marks already. How long as he been unconscious? In her care? How long had she been tending to him? Where was he? And what was going on?

Confounded and too full of pride, Fenris tossed the utensil aside. It hit the wall with a clang and Kallian simply rolled her eyes, sighing exasperatedly.

"Suit yourself."

Then, again without warning, she pressed the anesthesia soaked cloth she'd prepared earlier into his wound and he howled in pain.

The intense burning sensation caught him off guard. Fenris started to writhe, recoiling away from her in his little cot mattress but her hand pressed firmly flush against his skin while her other arm snaked its way around his neck to cradle his spine still. "I told you so," she chuckled in his ear. He hissed in response, grinding his teeth together as the heated pain shot up his whole spine.

"Any minute now, it'll start to feel better," she cooed, holding him closer in a comforting manner, the way she'd done so many times before.

And as promised, the burning subsided and turned into cool tingling. Now prone on his side, Kallian removed the anesthesia in favor of an antibacterial herbal poultice. She applied a thin layer onto the wound and the skin surrounding it before laying a thin cloth over the top of the whole wound. Afterwards, Kallian then used the linen bandage she had unraveled earlier and wrapping it tightly around Fenris' torso to pack the poultice in snug.

She was quick in her work, telling Fenris she'd probably done this many times before. No doubt it was probably a lot easier without him squirming about. Given the proper supplies, Fenris was sure he wouldn't still be in the pain he was in. She was definitely efficient with what was available on hand. He could be at least grateful for that.

"There. All done," she said, clapping her hands victoriously before rising to her feet to clean up her mess. "Now you may sit up."

Carefully, Fenris rolled onto his back, pushing himself up into a sitting position with his elbows. There were new scrapes and burns on his arms. He wasn't quite sure how or where he had gotten them. From the upright position he could see his armor and sword propped against the opposite wall near the foot of his cot right in plain view.

Kallian was at the other side of the room now, near the hearth scrubbing her hands up to her elbows with soap in a basin of fresh water. She was muttering under her breath again and Fenris could vaguely make out the words "damned" and "lucky."

He continued looking around, noticing the steaming pot on the table in the center of the room. There were also two mismatched bowls and some utensils too. Behind the table next to the hearth were several rucksacks filled with oddly shaped objects.

It was relatively dark in the room, save for the fire in the hearth. Fenris could not make out any windows. They were patched up with mismatched planks of wood and covered with sheets to block out the light. No doubt it was to deter any scavengers or pillagers from knocking on their door.

While Fenris examined his surroundings, Kallian wiped her arms dry and moved to the table to ladle a generous portion of vegetable stew into a bowl. She walked it over to Fenris as his gaze was still turned to the ceiling, placing it in his hands with a spoon.

"Now that you're awake, you can feed yourself," she said, indicating to the food.

He raised a brow in surprise, opening his mouth to speak. She wouldn't let him have it, pointing at him and demanding, "Eat!"

Before he could say anything else, she turned away muttering more swear words under her breath that he could not understand. And as if he wasn't even there, she began cleaned up her mess; dumping out dirty water, putting away the pail of soapy bandages, and corking up jars and bottles of poultice and salves before moving back to the small dining table in the middle of the room. He watched intently as she scurried about.

Finished with her cleaning, Kallian turned her attention to the pile of knapsacks in the corner of the room. She pulled out short sword and dagger from one of them, setting it down onto the table in front of her. Then she rummaged around again, returning with a bottle of amber colored liquid and several scraps of dry cloth. Fenris stared with interest, hot bowl of food still untouched in his hands. He observed as she poured a few drops of the mineral oil onto the blade, becoming impressed when she began rubbing it in with the cloth.

A woman knowledge with her weapons was either a powerful ally or a dangerous enemy. He still couldn't figure out if she was a friend or foe, savior or captor.

Her eyes flickered up, catching his stare. Taking notice of his untouched food, she frowned and placed her weapon onto her table before raising a hand to shake her pointer finger at him.

"Eat," she commanded. "You're going to need your strength for the move."

_What move?_ He wondered, unsure of what she'd meant. But to appease her Fenris brought a spoonful of stew to his lips. Comforted by the warmth of the broth, he savored a mouthful with careful chews and a slow swallow. Under her scrutinizing eyes, he ate until she returned her attention back to her weapons. The moment she did, he stopped eating and resumed studying her.

"What happened?" He asked after a long pause. His hunger was satiated, but his head still pounding and memories were still murky. The harder he thought the more it hurt.

"You don't remember?" she asked, slowly and cautiously.

He shook his head 'no.'

She sighed, putting down her weapons once more, corking the bottle of oil, and putting it aside as she rummaged in the knapsack in search of a whetstone.

"Do you remember the Qunari approaching?" she asked. He could see her chewing at her bottom lip, worrying the flesh between her teeth.

Vaguely, he nodded his head 'yes.' "You were there," he murmured.

"Yes, I was. With you."

Fenris furrowed his brow in confusion.

Seeing the look on his face, she sighed. "Well, not with _with_ you. But you were there, and I was there. We were there at the same time." She paused, frowning at herself, and taking in a deep breath. "Ships were denying passage to elves and slaves. Do you remember now?"

He shook his head again, not really understanding.

"We were left behind when the attack struck Alam. Last ship had set sail when an explosion hit the docks and you were injured."

"I don't understand. How did I get here then? Where are we?"

She seemed irritated with his questions, scowling, "I was getting to that part."

As she put the whetstone to the blade's edge, Kallian explained, "I pulled you from the wreckage. A group of people fleeing the city saved both of us and they brought us here but then the others wanted to leave the wounded behind and I… I just couldn't do that in good conscience."

_How strange._

He stared at her, examining the lines of her eyes and mouth. If she were lying, he would be able to discern it. Her eyes would be shifting. Her breath would be bated. And her heart rate would increase rapidly. He would be able to sense it.

She wasn't lying though, and he was… pleasantly surprised to say the least.

"I see," he said slowly. "And where exactly is this?" indicating all around him to the small enclosed room.

"We're in the outskirts; the farmlands. They were evacuated like the city, but most homes were relatively unscathed, only abandoned. This one is the farthest cottage from the main road. We've been here for little over a week, maybe two. I've lost track of time but I've managed to find some things of use while you were healing." She accentuated her point with a grind of the whetstone against the blade's edge, smirking as he failed to flinch at screeching noise.

Fenris nodded in response until a glint of something shiny caught his eye. His gaze left hers and followed over to the pile near the hearth. Over her shoulders, in the heap of oddly shaped things he could clearly see a jeweled, golden chalice jutting out of the rucksack. It must have disengaged from its snug hiding from all her rummaging earlier. Kallian followed his stare, glancing over before returning to him. She smiled sheepishly.

"What?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders.

"And what use would _that_ have? Did your mother also teach you how to steal too?"

Kallian scrunched her nose, indigent and snapping back at him, "I prefer the term 'scavenging.' These things won't be missed. Their owners abandoned them, like us. If they had any value they wouldn't have been left behind."

She shrugged her shoulders again, turning away from him.

"Anyways, we'll need the coin if we're going to make it all the way to Seheron capital city."

_We? Wwhat did she mean, "we"?_

But before he could ask, Kallian was already on her feet throwing an empty backpack over her shoulders as she strapped her weapons to her belt. She pointed to the half-eaten bowl of food in his hands.

"Eat," she ordered as she poured another ladleful into his bowl, filling it to the brim with stew. "I'm going to try and find a horse or a mule. There's a wagon out back we could use... at least until we get to the jungles."

_There she goes with that "we" again._

"Finish that," she said, pointing to the bowl resting in his hands. "There's more if you're still hungry, please help yourself. Try on any of the clothes I found, yours were a little… um, crispy from the attack. I may be good at mending wounds but clothes… not so much. There's also more oil on the table if you want to clean your gear and help yourself to the whetstone if you'd like. Just take it easy. I'll be back soon."

_And what if I am not here when you return?_ He refrained from making such a comment, continuing to stare at her instead. Fenris could not help but feel foolish. How much time in this short while had he spent staring and not talking? There were so many more questions he had.

Nevertheless, he was amazed that such a small person could say so much and in one breath too. How could she speak so much while he struggled to form words?

Kallian took his silence as her cue to leave, flashing him a small smile as she snuck out the door. He could make out sunlight through the crack. It was probably late afternoon or early evening by the looks of it.

It would not have been impossible to leave if he wanted to; the pain was bearable now. Fenris wondered how much time he had before she returned and how far he'd make it before she even noticed he was gone. He could simply pack a few of her supplies and sneak off. While thoughts of escape were creeping through his mind, other thoughts of doubt superseded them. Once more he began pondering his predicament. How could he have been unconscious for over a week? Where was Danarius? There was still so much he did not understand.

Too many thoughts. Too many assumptions. Nothing was certain.

Fenris looked down at the mediocre stew in his hands, frowning at the consistency and texture. It tasted alright enough but… it was... bland. Given the circumstances though, what was he supposed to expect?

A grumbling in his stomach told him to eat more. Quickly, he scarfed down several more spoonfuls before putting aside the unfinished portion. He couldn't very well sit there all day; he needed to get up and about. Slowly, Fenris swung his legs over the bed cot's edge, hissing as his bare feet touched cool hardwood floors. His legs felt weak as he rose to his feet, as if they could not carry his weight. This caused Fenris to worry even more. The amnesia was unsettling enough without having to worry about putty-like, numb limbs. He instantly reached behind him, bracing himself as he sat back down onto the cot with a thud.

As he massaged his legs, Fenris glanced around the room to inspect it more clearly. Aside from the hearth, table, and pile of plundered treasures, he noticed some clothes strewn on a chair. From his seated position, he reached for the clothes. Oversized and made for humans no doubt. Some were outrageous, extravagantly colored, embroidered, and plush but downright useless when it came to function. Out of the whole pile, he managed to find a plain looking shirt and a pair of dark leggings. Better than nothing he thought, tossing the rest aside.

With the pins and needles tingling in his legs almost gone, Fenris rose to his feet and gingerly walked only a few steps towards his armor and sword. He sat down on the chair Kallian had previously occupied, picking up his greatsword to inspect the damage and taking note of the new scorch marks. He looked around some more, taking count of all his belongings. All of his personal effects were there. Kallian certainly seemed like a skilled thief judging by the pile of valuables she'd ransacked but all of _his _things were untouched and accounted for. Why? What was he to her?

Unnerved, Fenris picked up the whetstone and brought it close to the edge of his blade. Unsure of how much time he had, he began preparing for the worst case scenario.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Fenris had only a couple of hours before Kallian returned but he had managed to sharpen his sword, clean his armor, and get it on when she burst through the door looking frantic.

"Oh. Good. You're dressed. We need to leave. **_Now!_**" She seemed panicked, out of breath and face white like she'd seen a ghost or something worse.

"What?" He barely had time to get the word out when she rushed him, taking the pot of stew from the table and dumping the whole thing into the hearth to quench its flames.

"Shhh!" She shushed him with a hiss and sharp glare, running towards his cot and peeling at the floor's planks. Fenris could faintly hear rustling outside. Voices were close by. But before he could open his mouth to ask, she'd smacked her hand over it, effectively shutting him up and dragged him towards the hole she'd dug in the ground.

"Get in," she hissed, shoving him into the hovel. Compliant, he did as he was told, crawling into the small space with just enough time to catch a rucksack that was thrown in after him. Then another, and another, and finally Kallian herself. She jumped into the small space, closing the trap door as she dived in. Now in complete darkness they waited pressed chest to chest, breath on breath as the rustling outside entered the room above their heads.

Kallian braced her hands on his side to steady herself and Fenris winced at the touch. He bit his inner cheek as to not say anything, keeping silent. The only thing he could do was wrap his arm around her, hugging their bodies close to stop her trembling. She clung to him for dear life though mindful of his injury. They stood still as the ransacking above them escalated to smashing and slamming. Kallian raised her head to whisper in his ear. "Slavers," and Fenris instantly knew.

Men itching to produce a double profit took advantage of the frequent conflicts in Seheron. When magisters fled, they usually left behind their slaves like much of their belongings. Those who failed to join the Qun were hunted, captured, and then resold as either new slaves or to their former masters.

The men rummaged above, tossing and turning the furniture, slashing clothes and drapes until they were satisfied with themselves. Even in the dark, Fenris could see Kallian wincing with each clang and crack. Were he not injured, Fenris could have easily ripped the men's hearts out and Thedas would be rid of a few more rotten slavers.

After what seemed like an eternity, the ruckus eventually stopped. Perhaps the men grew tired of overturning furniture, he thought. Then a clang of glass smashing indicated they'd probably found Kallian's stash of treasures.

"Fuck," he heard her whimper, wincing and feeling pity for her. She kept her eyes tightly shut and bit her lip to silence herself. Fenris could not help but feel sorry. Maker only knows how long it took for her to compile it and not to mention how much it was worth. Probably enough to buy her passage to Ferelden and back, though he was sure she'd ever want to come back.

The looting went on for several more minutes. The longest minutes of his life, Fenris reckoned. When the door above them slammed closed, the two took it as the best time to exit their hiding spot. Otherwise, the slavers would probably return with more men, trapping them there until they were either caught or starved to death. Fenris and Kallian knew very well they couldn't stay and this was their only opportunity to escape.

She got out first, opening the trap door and climbing out on his shoulders. Fenris handed her the rucksacks she'd thrown and then took her forearm as she pulled him out.

The mess around them was phenomenal. He was baffled at the disarray the slavers had made. Broken chair and table parts littered the floor, and drapes and sheets were torn to shreds. Kallian's neat pile of treasure strewn all over, rather what was left of it was in disarray. Most of the jewels and precious metals had been taken; all the crystal and porcelain had been smashed to pieces. He was careful walking as to not step on any broken glass.

She punched the air out of frustration, biting her fist as it recoiled back to her. "Shit."

Everything was a mess. Everything she'd scavenged had been looted or destroyed. They were right back to square one and Fenris could not help but think had she not been spending her time and effort tending to him, this probably would have never happened to her. He also made note mentally had she decided not to spend the time tending to him, he probably wouldn't have been alive either. The deep pain in his side reminded him his injuries were severe when she saved him. He held it cautiously as they rummaged around the mess looking for anything to salvage.

Nothing. All was lost.

Kallian ran her hands through her hair, pushing it away from her face as she overturned the broken table. She grabbed an empty knapsack and threw it at Fenris, who caught it with his free hand.

"Take what you can carry. I'll meet you out back."

He furrowed his brows, baffled. After all this, she still wasn't going to abandon him?

Silently grateful, Fenris shifted through the mess carefully but quickly. He managed to find her salves and bandages, packing those away neatly. Some of the clothes had been left intact. He packed a few shirts and robes into his knapsack. They could use them to sleep in, if not Maker forbid, wear when their current ones become worn with holes. Seheron nights were sometimes chilly but he quietly prayed hoping to never have to wear the gaudy purple piece in his hands. Underneath the overturned table, he found the whetstone, though it was soaked in oil on one side. Tearing off a piece of cloth from the shredded sheets, he wrapped it up and shoved it in his knapsack.

Satisfied with his findings, Fenris slipped out the back door with his backpack slung over his shoulders along with his greatsword.

When he found Kallian out back, she was leaning against a tree fiddling with a small vial of red liquid in her hands. Her head was cast down and he swore he heard her sniffle.

As he approached her, she began straightening herself rubbing her tired eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and fixing the straps of her backpack. She was doing everything but look him in the eye as if she were afraid or ashamed of something. He paused facing her, mouth slightly agape and unsure of what to say. What does one say after something like that? He didn't have to though because she'd shoved something in his hands instead.

"It's not much, but it's something at least," she said, shifting her feet in her spot.

Fenris looked down in his hands, tearing his eyes from her and examining the vial she'd given him. A health potion. She'd gone out scavenging and came back with a health potion for him.

He looked up, muttering the only words that'd managed to form, "Thank you." He sincerely meant it and she smiled at him in return.

"Come on, before they come back."

She pointed over her shoulders towards the woods behind her. Fenris adjusted the backpack and followed in her trail. They walked in silence for many miles as the moon rose high in the night sky and stars burned brightly against the dark of night.

* * *

><p>Fenris walked a few paces behind Kallian as they maneuvered through the forest. She led the way using the stars and a makeshift map as her guide. Her plan of action was to disappear through the woods, make it to the coast and follow it to Seheron capital city but Fenris knew at some point they would meet the jungles. Treacherous jungles filled with the unknown.<p>

She quipped it was better that than take the main roads. There was potentially more trouble to be found there than in the wilds. Fenris disagreed.

As they walked he felt guilty dragging his knapsack along while she carried more than twice the weight of his things. Even his greatsword felt heavy on his back, which it never did before. The pain in his side began burning up again. He persevered to the best of his abilities, pushing the pain from his thoughts as they trekked on. In his mind, Fenris had shown enough weakness to feel shame for many lifetimes. Why this woman continued tending to him was beyond him. He could not help but question the Good Samaritan the saved his life.

She was unlike any other slave he'd known in his lifetime, or at least this lifetime. He remembered nothing of his life before the brandings, and everything he'd known since that had been nothing but painful. Many slaves came to Danarius like her, headstrong and defiant… until he beat it out of them. She, this elf, was unlike any other slave he'd known. Too defiant to have been a slave her whole life; like a stallion unable to be tamed and caught straight from the wild.

He wondered about her… he didn't even know her name, too shy to ask for it. He only knew her as foulmouthed and prideful, resourceful in dangerous times, and quick thinking. Even the way she carried herself was… different. It was… enticing yet frightening. She must have been a free elf before. He could only imagine what it must be like to be ripped from it and tossed into the magister's world that was the Tevinter Imperium. Questions raced through his mind. He could ignore the pain but not the questions.

In the pocket of his oversized shirt, Fenris fiddled with her health potion. Nobody had ever given him something for nothing, a sentiment he did not know how to repay. The mere words "Thank you" seemed to suffice for her, though in his heart they didn't seem quite enough. Especially not after all she'd done for him already. The guilt chewed at him, the way he chewed on his inner cheek to ignore the pain at his side.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Eventually they stopped for the night, taking shelter under the roots of a fallen redwood tree. He volunteered to start a fire while she went in search for something to eat. Without much light, hunting would've been out of the question, as neither of them had much experience in the sport. By the time she returned with a handful of flora and roots, he was still fiddling with the flint and tinder. If she thought him incompetent, he would not have blamed her. He wondered if she'd begun to regret saving his life at this point.

While Fenris continued his attempt at starting a fire, Kallian began clearing the space behind him. She kicked aside large rocks and dead leaves, making room for a space to sleep. Once the space was cleared of gravel and debris, she laid down broad flat leaves she'd collected to form two small but relatively plush bed cots on the dirt ground. As she worked on that, he finally had success with the campfire, blowing air at it to feed the flames. At that moment, Kallian came over to him, once more offering something for nothing in return, egging him to take her handful of food. This was a breaking point for him. He could no longer stay silent.

"Why are you doing all of this?" he finally asked, curious and tormented.

"What do you mean? I'm giving you food," she answered with a laugh. 

"Why did you save me, back in Alam? Why not leave me to die and save yourself."

She blinked at him, horrified that he had suggested such a thing.

"It was the right thing to do," she finally responded, calmly and so nonchalant, shrugging her shoulders. It irked him even more.

"The right thing to do would've been to leave me behind."

Now it was her turn to be confused, "Why? You don't like being alive?" She forced he lines of her eyes to smile.

He felt himself getting angry with her, lashing out. "Because you're in possession of stolen property. Me. I have a master and he will be returning for me."

She stared at him for many minutes before bursting out in laughter.

"I'm in 'possession of stolen property'? Oi, you're a person, not property. And your 'master'? He _abandoned_ you. You're not anybody's property. Not anymore. You're free."

Free? What a preposterous concept. Now for certain he knew she couldn't have been a slave in Tevinter for long. Her concept of freedom was just unrealistic, Fenris thought, scrunching his face in disapproval. The worst was she looked at him as if he were the crazy one. As if he should have been overjoyed at the idea; he wasn't. He was unsettled.

"What's your name?" she asked, shaking him from his thoughts.

He answered without thinking, mentally smacking himself as the word escaped his lips. "Fenris."

She smiled in response, a genuine smile he'd rarely witnessed before. "Well Fenris, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Kallian, but my friends call me Kalli."

This woman really was crazy. Not only did she speak of herself in such regard, she also spoke of having friends. Such an attitude would have garnered a heavy blow or backhand in Danarius' household. He knew it having seen it firsthand and having sometimes delivered it himself. His right arm twitched in response. A reflex, he cursed under his breath.

Her smile was unwavering; the sheer genuineness in her eyes unnerved him. All he could do was hug his side as he tried to recoil from her stare.

"You never answered my question. Why did you save me?" was all he could muster saying.

"I believe my answer was: because it was the right thing to do."

"But why?"

"Why what?"

"What constitutes the right thing to do?"

"Oh, you got me," she breathed, exasperatedly.

His attention piqued. Fenris raised a brow, staring at her with wide eyes, waiting for the next words. She threw up her arms in defeat, rolling her eyes dramatically. "I didn't do it because it was morally right and just."

A-ha! Caught in a lie. He hung on, waiting for the confession.

"I saved you because... well I just have a thing for the tall, dark, and brooding." She grinned like a Cheshire cat. Sarcasm seething from her pores as she turned her mischievous gaze to him. "What can I say? I like damaged people. It makes me feel _good_ about myself, if you know what I mean." She winked at him. She bloody winked at him.

All Fenris could do was rise from his seat and stomp away from her, frustrated. From behind him he could hear her shouting.

"Oh, come on! It was a joke. I'm sorry! Please come back here." Though her roaring laughter didn't seem apologetic at all. 

Fenris wouldn't turn back though, wandering off into the darkness to be alone and by himself. How infuriating. He cursed under his breath; the woman had saved her life because she wanted to and he couldn't find an ulterior motive for the life of him. It was difficult for him to grasp her good deed. Just like it was difficult for him to grasp her notions of freedom. They unnerved him. He used to dream of freedom a long time ago. When did he stop, and now why was he trying to throw it away now that the opportunity presented itself to him? The only answers to his questions were the soft 'whos' from owls flying above. He would have no answers and no resolution until he was ready to accept them himself.

When Fenris returned, Kallian was still awake sitting in her place by the fire. She was hugging herself, warming to the flames to ward off the chilly night air. As he approached, she looked up at him wearing a slightly sullen and guilty expression on her face.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't jest like that," she said.

He nodded his head in response, accepting her apology… until she said more.

"Truth is I think I need you."

He raised a brow high. _In what manner?_

Immediately, she began blushing. The lines around her eyes crinkled as her hands went to cover her face in embarrassment.

"Not what I meant." She was laughing nervously now, shifting away from his stare. "I think I need your help."

He sat down beside her, leaning in to listen to her explain.

"I saved you because it was the right thing to do. Yes, but also because you looked like a very capable and resourceful man. I'm trying to get home and… well my mother always taught me 'Strength in numbers.' So… I just figured you'd help me… if I saved your life."

Fenris paused, absorbing what she'd asked of him. So that was her master plan? Far from the treacherous mastermind conspiracies he'd concocted in his mind moments earlier. The woman saved him because she seized an opportunity that presented itself by some strange stroke of luck. If he were a religious man, Fenris would have thought the Maker had plans for them.

She stared at him, wide eyed, and still slightly flustered. He drew in a deep breath, straightened his posture and tried to come off as stoic as possible.

"And what makes you think you can trust me?" he said, voice chilly. "How do you know I won't kill you?"

She shrugged her shoulders, casting her gaze at the flames. "I don't _know_ that you won't. I just… have to have faith."

He blinked at her several times. _What does she even mean by that? Faith in what? Him? The Maker?_

Shaking her head, Kallian rose from her seat, superficially dusting off her backside.

"I don't know. I don't even know what I'm saying. Here," handing him the rest of her food. "If you're not here in the morning, I'll understand. If you kill me… then maybe it's better off that way. You'll do it in my sleep, right? I can at least go peacefully."

Now there was a look he was familiar with; the look of defeat. There was something about hers that was heartbreaking, causing his tight-lip, hard-face to soften. Kallian retired to her space without much word, using one of her knapsacks as a pillow, back turned to him. Fenris sat there for a while longer mediating on what she'd said and what she'd meant.

At last he resolved: _Ferelden broads are strange indeed._

Before retiring to bed, Fenris rummaged through his backpack, remembering the clothes he'd taken with him. Silently, he walked over to Kallian's sleeping form, grasping the gaudy robe in his hand tightly. It would have been easy, striking her down and killing her. To squash all her silly dreams of freedom and liberation. It would have been a quick, merciful death, and the slave in him said it would have been 'the right thing to do.' Such thoughts were poison to a slave's mentality. To hold such hopes were detrimental to their livelihood. But to Fenris, it would have been tragic to destroy something so genuine and unique. His interest was now piqued. He wanted to know more about her crazy perspective and views, even with conflicting voices in his head screaming at him to turn around and wait for Danarius' return.

Cautiously, he laid the robes over her, covering her body from the neck down. She stirred a little in her sleep, and he tiptoed away towards the other side of the clearing. He'd just laid down when he heard her speak.

"Thank you," she murmured and Fenris winced, wondering exactly just what he gotten himself into. Slumber did not come easy for him that night but Kallian snored loudly in her makeshift bed roll.

By the time Fenris managed to fall asleep, dusk was approaching, turning the night sky into a pastiche of purple and pink hues. When she stirred in her slumber, Fenris felt nervous. But then she'd roll over and snore soundly as if there weren't a care in the world. He focused on the quiet noises of the woods to lull him to sleep, feeling his eyes droop just as the sun peaked over the horizon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Fenris didn't get much sleep that evening. His slumber felt more like a nap than a peaceful night's rest but somehow he managed to do it in spite of the many thoughts and questions racing through his mind. By the time the sun had fully risen in the sky, Kallian had already been awake for some time. Words could not even begin to describe the joy she felt when she saw Fenris was still with her. Thankfully, he was still asleep when she squealed to herself and did a little jig in celebration. He surely would have laughed at her awkward and exuberant dance moves.

The sun beams startled him awake. Fenris rose from his bed roll to see Kallian crouched over the campfire. She poked at it with a stick and upon further inspection, he realized she had something on a spit and was rotating it. His stomach grumbled, indicating exactly how hungry he was.

He rubbed the tired from his eyes as he walked over to her, taking slow deliberate steps to shake the sleepiness off. It was the smell of something cooking that intrigued him, waking him up instantly. She somehow managed to catch a couple of squirrels for breakfast. He didn't know if he should've been impressed or scared when she offered him the skewer, eyes bright and teeth grinning.

As he ate, Fenris mentally added one more thing on his list of debts to repay. Last night as he futilely tried to fall asleep, he had resolved to repay Kallian for everything she'd done for him. While he didn't wholly accept her beliefs or ideas about freedom and such, she had saved his life after all. She had nursed him back to health and kept him safe from slavers even though she didn't have to. In fact, he maintained her life would've probably been much easier without him being tied down to her. The least he could do was help her get home, wherever that may be and as soon as possible. The moment she was free from him, he'd be free of his debt to her and able to return to Alam to await Danarius' return. It was the only sensible thing to do in his mind.

They ate in a hurry and packed with equal speed. Like the evening before Kallian offered to navigate the woods, claiming the main road should to be just a few paces ahead.

They weren't.

In fact, they'd passed the same redwood tree twice in the last hour and that was hours ago. Kallian didn't seem to notice. She merely grumbled under her breath in frustration, muttering colorful Ferelden swear words and phrases that had Fenris both puzzled and amused. He kept his mouth shut, followed behind her, and fiddled with his little health potion in his pocket. Maker only knows why he hadn't gulped it down already. The unrelenting pain tickled at his side, which he held gingerly in their trek across the woods.

"I don't get it," she finally declared, stopping in her tracks. "This is the exact same way I went the last time I tried to escape."

Fenris raised a critical brow at her. The last time she'd tried to escape? So, she'd done this before? He chortled. O_bviously unsuccessfully._

Kallian ignored him, running hands through her hair as she looked around in complete distress and exasperation. Sweat gathered at her furrowed brow. "What am I doing wrong?"

_Oh, where do I begin?_ He laughed again, this time more audibly.

She glared at him. He swore he saw little flames flickering in her irises but not wanting to get on her bad side Fenris took the map from her, looked at it several times, and then pointed in a direction east. He could tell she was skeptical, eyeing the path with reluctance. With a little persuasion, he assured her it would lead them to the main road and finally out of the woods.

"How do you know?" she asked with a scowl.

Hiding his smirk, Fenris replied, "Sometimes Danarius liked to hunt. I've been taken here many times. It is not hard to navigate. A child could do it."

"Oh?" Now it was her turn to raise a brow. "And exactly when were you going to share this little tidbit of information?" She crossed her arms, eyeing him down.

"Just now," he said, in a manner so nonchalantly Kallian's brow rose a little higher. Perhaps she was rubbing off on him or perhaps he was just getting a bit of payback for last night, but the look on her face was quite worth it. The silent treatment she gave him for the next few hours was blissful. If she thought it was an appropriate way to punish him, she was sorely wrong. He quite enjoyed the silence.

* * *

><p>Headed in a direction east, the two made it to the main road by mid-afternoon just as the sun was at its highest peak. Fenris had been right in his orienteering, bringing another scowl to Kallian's features as the dirt path became clearer through the shrubbery at the wood's edge. They approached it with caution, wary of whoever may be travelling it. For all they knew, more slavers could be right around the corner it and that was the last thing they needed to encounter.<p>

Kallian sucked her teeth, making a 'tsk' noise. With a wounded ego, she broke her silent treatment and turned to Fenris as they hid behind a fallen tree trunk.

"I think we should cut through to the jungles. Make it to the coast and follow it along to Seheron." She nodded with determination, having made up in her mind that this was the best plan of action. "Plus, we can fish for food," she added with a half-hearted smile.

Fenris already had a sour look on his face. Cutting through the jungle did not sound like a very good idea to him. And the idea of eating fish for the next week or two as they travelled to Seheron capital city was an even less appealing idea. Granted, the main road could be riddled with slavers and bandits, but the jungle housed so many secrets and dangerous creatures that most of it was still uncharted. He frowned, shaking his head in disagreement.

"No, we should take the roads," he argued, "They are reliable and we will know what to expect if we keep to them." _Hopefully nothing_, he added silently, thoughts shifting to the searing pain at his side.

Kallian rolled her eyes. "I know you've been lugging that great big sword around like it's nothing but even I can see you're in no condition to fight off slavers if we encounter them. We're going through the jungle and that's final."

She was firm in her assertion. Her comment wounded his ego but Kallian was right, even if Fenris didn't want to formally acknowledge it. His wound was not yet fully healed and his sword did feel heavy dragging it around. How would he swing it and fight off bandits when it was already this hard carrying it around?

"Also, will you drink the blighted potion already? I know you've been diddling with it in your pocket," she added with an all-knowing look on her face.

Now it was his turn to give the silent treatment, scowling at the pixie as she darted across the dirt road and into the jungle's outskirts. He bit his tongue, trying not to yell after her. Hiking his backpack over his shoulder, Fenris sprinted across the road while holding his injured side with his free hand.

Reunited, he pulled out the little vial from his pocket and deposited its contents in his mouth in front of her, defiantly taking his time to swallow the liquid under her scrutinizing eyes.

_Benefaris._

It burned going down, sort of like Antivan whiskey but immediately a heat spread from his belly towards his spine and around to his gash. He felt better within minutes, feeling tense muscles ease and relax. The smoldering victorious look on her face was infuriating but whatever snarky comment she had for being right once again, she kept to herself.

Now in the depths of unexplored territory, the two made their way through the thicket of brush and trees and vines, startled by strange wildlife calls and the rustle of leaves in the absence of breeze. Fenris could not shake the wary feeling of being watched as they explored where no man had dared to before. Barely half an hour in, Kallian had already drawn her short sword from its sheath and began slashing at the foliage in their way. Temporarily freed from pain, Fenris walked side by side with her, keeping a keen eye out for signs of danger.

"Have you ever seen such a wild creature?" She asked in a voice of amazement, gesturing to a monkey perched up high above them on the long branches of the jungle trees. It tilted its round, black and white face at the sight of the two elves, startling Fenris with its human-like features.

He grunted in response, maintaining with determination not to speak to Kallian nor indulge in her little comments. While her silent treatment to him had been a sort of reward, he could tell she had a difficult time remaining quiet. This made him feel all the more satisfied with himself. Not only had he succeed in angering her, but he also annoyed her and received complete silence for a brief moment in time.

But success was fleeting. His attempt at doing something similar backfired right in his face. While she hated begin silent herself, Kallian didn't seem to mind Fenris being the quiet one. His little silent treatment did not perturb her. She chirped on, pointing out more strange flora and wild animals for him to look at while he gritted his teeth, trying not to reply with more than a grunt or 'hmm'.

The deeper into the jungles they ventured, the hotter it became. The hotter it became, the more they sweated, making it glisten under the Seheron sun. The more sweat that accumulated, the more clothes Kallian managed to shrug or tear off.

First, it was her jacket; understandable enough. But then she tore off the sleeves of her shirt after deciding rolling them up made the heat all the more unbearable. It left her loose linen shirt with gaping holes where her sleeves formerly had been and allowed the briefest peeks of her chest band and side cleavage with every swing of her arms.

The more clothes she shrugged off, the harder it became for Fenris to focus. He blamed it on the heat. It was the heat that made him delirious, not his scantily clad travelling companion. It was the heat and the humidity. Why else did he feel hotter than normal, and why else did warmth rise to his face and cheeks and ears? He redirected his attention to the sky above, not noticing Kallian rucking up the excess fabric of her shirt to tie around her midriff.

Though he could not see the sun through the jungle's thick tree tops, he could tell it was probably late afternoon or early evening. The beams of light that broke through were still bright, not enough yellow or orange in it to indicate the sun setting.

Not used to the Seheron weather, Kallian was in a less than happy mood at this point. She wiped the dripping sweat from her neck with her balled up extra shirt, mumbling twice as many complaints as she had the hour earlier. Fenris had to agree, wanting to discard his plate armor himself.

"Ugh. This humidity. I cannot wait to get out of this and just go home," she whined, pausing for the umpth time to catch her breath. Bent over, she gave him an eyeful of her cleavage. It wasn't until Kallian sat down on the ground and pulled off her boots and pants that Fenris quickly spun around to face away. He winced when he heard the ripping and tearing of fabric.

Composing himself, Fenris retorted sarcastically. "Right," covering up the discomfort he felt. "Because the wet and muddy climate of Ferelden is so much better than this."

Scrambling to her feet as she pulled on the newly made shorts, Kallian scowled, "Hey!" But then the features of her face softened and her mouth formed an 'O' in surprise. With his back turned, he could not see her small smile.

"How did you know I'm from Ferelden? I don't think I told you that before."

Fenris shrugged his shoulders, firmly intent on keeping his back turned to her. "I… vaguely remembered someone mentioning something… but," he quickly added, "even if I didn't, your accent and foul mouth gave it away."

Now she was indignant, turning her smile into a pout, "Oh… Hey! Come off it. I'm not that foul, am I?"

He did not reply as he cut down the shrubbery in front of them, stomping angrily on the fallen vines and branches.

"You are strange, woman," Fenris muttered under his breath as she chased after him. "You don't trust the main road but the deep uncharted jungle filled with Maker knows what…" He shook his head once more, rolling his eyes as he took the lead cutting down everything in their path and taking long strides to keep ahead of her.

If he were the one leading, he could at least be spared from following her. Watching her was hypnotizing but in his mind he reasoned it was because of the heat induced delirium. Yes, it definitely must be delirium. No one had ever enticed him with the simple sway of their hips. And now with her trousers turned into barely there shorts and shirt tied off to expose a taut midriff, he doubted he would be able to show much restraint if he were to continue following her. No, he needed to lead the way, be three steps ahead of her, and without her in his periphery view.

They trekked for a few more hours, glad when the light began to dim and air felt cooler. She complained the whole way, scolding him for getting them lost as if it were his fault that he didn't know how to navigate through uncharted territory. Fenris had resolved back to his silent treatment focusing his attention on cutting down foliage rather than addressing Kallian's grumbles. The pain at his side began building up again, slowly but still bearable. While her health potion had helped, perhaps some rest would do them some good too.

He put up a hand to silence her whining and stop her in her tracks. Kallian opened her mouth to protest when he shot her a harsh, pointed look, careful to maintain his gaze strictly to her face and nowhere else.

"Shhhh!" He hissed, listening intently to the silence. He heard bird calls and animal howls. Some leaves rustled and he turned his attention in the direction of the noise.

Nothing.

Kallian frowned at him, obviously having heard the same noises too.

"Just the wind," she reasoned, despite the fact they hadn't felt a breeze in hours.

As Fenris inched a little closer more noises became louder, particularly the sound of water. The shore perhaps? Perhaps they were close to the shoreline? No, too gentle to be waves crashing along the coast. Kallian listened for the noise too, parting the leaves of a tall bush in her way to clear the view. Before them was a glorious sight. Not the ocean coast but something just as magnificent; a small stream of water that puddled into a small creek and flowing presumably directly to the open seas.

Elated, Kallian clapped her hands together. It startled Fenris when she threw her arms around him in a brief celebratory hug.

"Thank the Maker! I desperately need a bath," she exclaimed.

Releasing Fenris from their embrace, Kallian sprinted ahead towards the water while Fenris eyed it with caution. He hadn't been able to shake that uneasy feeling since they'd ventured into the jungles and for good reason too. The moment Kallian left his side and ran towards the creek, the ground collapsed under her feet and she fell straight into a pit.

She howled in pain, so loud it sent a flock of exotic birds flying into the air. "Bloody Void! Who the fuck put a hole in the middle of the jungle?"

Fenris ran towards her, careful with his steps. He peered over into the edge of the pit, wincing as he saw Kallian sitting on its floor, holding her ankle with both hands.

Within seconds they were surrounded by about a dozen or so men sporting daggers, spears, and bows. All with tanned and dark complexions, muscular in built, and eyeing him warily. Black and red war paint were streaked across their faces and marked their arms and bare chests. They donned armor of leather and animal skins, teeth bared like predators.

From behind him Kallian yelled, "Fuck! Fenris! Aren't you going to help me up?"

He eyed the hunters through narrowed lids, adjusting his stance to something more defensive. His arm went around to his back, ready to grasp his greatsword and fight.

"Argh, Fenris! Seriously, help me up!"

Fenris cleared his throat. "We're surrounded," was all he said.

"What the fuck do you mean we're surrounded? By what?"

"Fog warriors," he replied, steely in his tone, not specifically addressing Kallian but simply stating the obvious. He measured each man individually, baring his teeth as well in a snarl like an animal. The hunters didn't move in but neither did they ease their position. They stood encircling him and the pit with vigilance and weapons drawn. Some were surprised, most were suspicious. All were statuesque in their posture. Everything was silent now.

Except for Kallian, of course.

She hollered from the bottom of the pit, "What the fuck is a Fog warrior?"

At his side, Fenris could hear in his native Tevinter tongue one Fog warrior speaking with another.

"Bet you two sovereigns the female in the ditch is a Ferelden."

He could not help but smirk at that comment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

After failing to negotiate and a brief struggle, Kallian and Fenris were captured and bound by the Fog warrior-hunters. Their hands were tied behind their backs and burlap sacks were thrown over their heads to cover their eyes as they were led through the jungle to an unknown destination.

The surrender hadn't been quiet or quick but relatively bloodless at least. The most violent thing that happened came from Kallian's right hook which connected squarely with a long haired Fog warrior's jaw as he tried to hoist her out of the ditch. She struggled, kicking with her good foot until they forced her down and tied her hands together to prevent any further violence.

Now they were imprisoned inside a canvas tent, still bound but at least without the sacks over their eyes. Two tall men guarded the doorway. One was elven and the other human. Both sported the same face paint as the hunters. Their countenance set in stone; neither flinched as Kallian hurled colorful Ferelden swear words at them. She would've hurled her boots too, if she could've.

Feeling defeated and glowing red with anger, Kallian scooted over next to Fenris. "I don't get it. What are Fog warriors?"

Fenris nodded towards the men guarding the doorway, "Them. 'Rebels.' 'Jungle dwellers.' Danarius called them _savages_."

Still no response from the guards.

"Well this is just great…" She grumbled as looked around at the room they were contained in. "What do you think they want with us?" Her eyes were wide and tearful, mind obviously racing through worse-case scenarios.

Fenris bit back the urge to say, "I told you so." After all, he _had_ warned her about the dangers of the jungle and she just _had _to not listen to him.

Instead of answering her question, he maintained his glaring at the guards. There could've been a number of reasons why they were captured. Money, perhaps? Ransom? Political leverage? Blood magic, for all he knew. Didn't matter the reason, all that mattered was the escape.

"You think they kill people in such a nice room like this?" Kallian asked again, the time with more awe than fear in her voice.

Snapped out of his reverie, Fenris turned his attention to the direction Kallian was staring at. He took a good, hard look around their surroundings. They were in a small but still spacious tent lit with oil lamps. Two bed rolls were laid out on one side of the room. At the other side was a sizable table and a set of stools surrounding it. The tent was sparsely furnished but neatly decorated and looked nothing like a place where prisoners would be held captive. Fenris eyed everything warily.

"Entirely possible," he answered, reminiscing on a time where Danarius killed a slave for merely spilling wine during a dinner service. If his time as a slave had taught him solely one thing, it was that _anything _was entirely possible.

He flinched at the memory though Kallian assumed it was because of his injury. She barked more obscenities at the two guards until at last, one turned to face her.

"Can we get some help, please? My friend is in a lot of pain." She gestured towards Fenris, pleading with wide and teary eyes. After many moments of faux crying and eyelash batting one of them grunted and left the tent. The guard returned within minutes with an elderly looking short man. He had thin graying hair, sported clothes of mosh posh animal skins, and wore feathers in his braided hair. He smelled of smoke and something musky, something herbal and medicinal. Around his waist was a belt of many pouches and purses, and he walked in leaning on a cane engraved with tribal symbols and dangling animal bones.

Behind him were two other men. One of middle age and the other much younger, more around Kallian's age and she could've have been more than eighteen summers old. Fenris deduced they must have been related. There was no mistaking it; they shared the same deep olive complexion and bright amber eyes. The older man had his dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. His salt and pepper beard was neatly trimmed in the style of a goatee. More importantly he wore an elaborate neckpiece made of bones and arcane feathers atop his light leather armor.

The younger Fog warrior wore something similar, though less elaborate. They must have been important men despite the fact they were carrying trays like common servants. Fenris quickly recognized the younger one from the hunting party. He'd been the one Kallian punched. Fenris couldn't help but smirk as he scanned over the reddening bruise that was forming on the hunter's clean shaven, square jaw.

He eyed the shaman and the two men carefully. The Fog warriors stood back while the healer examined Fenris' wound. He hummed softly as he partially removed the Tevinter elf's armor, leaving his side exposed as he poked and prodded at the bandaged wound.

Eventually after what felt like an eternity, the shaman rose to his feet and poured steaming water into a cup packed with unknown herbs and tea leaves. He blew on it several times to cool the liquid before bringing it directly to Fenris' lips. Struggling, he tried to pull away as the shaman's wrinkled hand gripped his chin, forcing his face straight and tilting the cup against his mouth. Persevering, Fenris kept his lips tightly pursed.

Watching the struggle, the older Fog warrior spoke up, "Do not resist. It is not poison, I promise you. Merely a restorative brew for the wound." He indicated to the exposed bandages at Fenris' side.

Kallian scowled, snapping at the chieftain with a biting remark. "Well of course you're going say it's not poison. Just 'cause you say it doesn't mean it isn't!"

He frowned at her comment, turning to Fenris to explain in Tevinter. This angered Kallian.

"Hey! Hey! You've got something to say, you can say it to both of us!" She yelled, face flushed with anger.

The younger warrior laughed at the comment, infuriating the pixie elf all the more. The older one did not seem perturbed, continuing to speak to Fenris in Tevinter until he reluctantly drank the tea. It was warm and comforting the way tea should be, settling the knots in his stomach and hydrating his parched throat. He could practically _feel_ his mind clear up, like the way clouds dissipate after a rainstorm.

Then, the chieftain turned to Kallian and narrowed his eyes onto her. "I was told you two were captured in one of our animal traps."

She glowered at his statement, narrowing her eyes to mirror his stare. "Are you trying to imply that I am an animal?"

Fenris mentally smacked himself. _Must she always be so hotheaded? That kind of attitude will get her killed_.

The woman had a death wish, he was sure of it. He needed to intervene or else the worse. Before Kallian could make another snappy remark, Fenris interjected. "What do you want with us?"

Both men beckoned to the guards to come over. Each pulled out a knife and maneuvered behind Kallian and Fenris. They pulled them up to their feet by the bindings that held their wrists. Fenris gulped thickly, spinning curses in his mind while Kallian hobbled on her good foot and balanced herself to the best of her abilities. He watched as her face tensed up, eyes squeezed shut as she held her breath in anticipation of death. Hopefully it would be a quick one.

Then there was a slice and he felt his hands slip free of their ties. Confused, he rubbed his reddened wrists and turned his head to the two Fog warriors. The younger one pointed at the table off to the side where steaming food was laid out.

"Sit and eat. It is also _not_ poisoned… like the tea. As you can see your friend is fine. Not frothing at the mouth, yes?" He directed this comment to Kallian with a smug and toothy grin too.

Kallian scowled in response. The human guard who'd freed her helped her over to a stool, bringing in an extra one to rest her twisted ankle on.

Before them on the table was a spread of _entrées_neither Kallian nor Fenris had ever seen before. There were two plates of braised mystery meat; one in a deep, rich yellow sauce and the other in a thinner red sauce. There were also an assortment of stewed vegetables in another dish and a great bowl of fluffy, white rice too. Lastly, there was a basket of flatbread in the center of the table.

Fenris watched as Kallian tentatively picked a piece up and rolled his eyes when she poked at it like a child would if they were playing with their food.

Their stomachs growled at the sight before them. Marvelous yes, but neither made a move to eat. To prove a point, the younger Fog warrior tore a piece of unleavened bread, dipped it in the red sauce, and took a large bite. He chewed it slowly with eyes set on Kallian which made Fenris feel… for lack of a better word – possessive. Feeling possessive then made him feel uncomfortable and feeling uncomfortable made him angry. Angry with himself, mostly.

When Kallian still made no move towards the food, the Fog warrior proceeded to portion out a helping of meat and rice onto her plate. He pushed it closer to her waiting for a reaction. Fenris kept his eyes glued onto him, still rubbing the welts on his wrists and itching to sink his fist into the tanned man's chest.

The chieftain then turned his gaze onto Fenris, recognizing the dark look in his eyes. He cleared his throat in order to gather everyone's attention.

"I suppose you both have questions."

Kallian nodded, crossing her arms and raising a skeptical brow, "You bet your feathered arse I do."

"Kallian!" Fenris hissed instinctively, startling the both of them. She snapped her head, turning to face him with a wide-eyed, surprised look. She looked at him strangely. It was the first time he'd ever said her name, much less aloud and the shock of that overshadowed her previous comment by tenfold. He felt even more uncomfortable under her stare, shifting in his seat to scoot away from her.

Meanwhile, the younger Fog warrior snorted into his drink at her comment, struggling to take a sip of wine to rinse down the piece of bread lodged in his throat.

Even the chieftain smirked, patting the younger man on the back as he fought to regain his breath. "My name is David. This is my brother, Namir. I command this battalion of Fog warriors."

Kallian slowly turned to face David, confused and not quite understanding. "I'm sorry, but what exactly _is_ a Fog warrior? Fenris said you're a 'rebel group' whatever that means…" She frowned, eyes shifting between the two painted warriors seated across the table.

Namir, the younger Fog warrior flashed another toothy grin having recovering from his mishap as he set down his cup of wine. "Some call us rebels but I would say we are more like… patriots charged with a noble mission to liberate Seheron." He seemed very proud of himself, puffing out his broad chest as the words rolled out.

Fenris watched as Kallian raised a brow doubtfully at Namir, wanting to roll his eyes too at the Fog warrior's fancy choice of words.

"Oh, you're on a holy crusade of some sorts? Well that just explains everything!" Sarcasm dripped from every word, accompanied by expressions of feigned surprise and interest and elaborate hand gestures. Fenris bit into his inner cheek, stifling a bitter laugh bubbling in his chest. _Oh no_, he thought silently to himself. He could see exactly where this was going.

Kallian crossed her arms again, staring down at both men with a dark glare.

"Pardon me if I'm a little unreceptive. I've just been captured and tied up by strange shem sporting water colors on their face like my five year old cousin used to. I hope you understand my skepticism."

Namir laughed at Kallian's remark, both bewildered and amused by her. This served only to further irritate Fenris who turned his gaze onto the younger man. "Where I am from, Fog warriors are terrorists. No better than Tal-Vashoth or crude bandits."

Kallian kept her eyes narrowed on Namir, bravado faltering just a little as the loud grumbling of her stomach gurgled in the brief moment of silence. He smirked her way.

David, who'd been silent during everything raised a palm to silence his impulsive brother from responding.

"No doubt that is what we are to the cruel magisters of your world, but we are far more sophisticated than mere terrorists. We may employ unconventional strategies and guerrilla warfare but it is all in order to liberate Seheron from both Tevinter _and_ Qunari influences."

Kallian snorted, "Obviously unsuccessfully. Otherwise you wouldn't be hiding in the jungles."

The smirk on Namir's face faded into a scowl. He slammed his fist down, shaking the table as he stumbled out of his seat. "You wandered onto my lands. You stumbled into my trap. And you have the _nerve_ to insult me? Best watch your tongue, pretty girl or else. You will not speak ill of my people and the work we do especially after all the hospitality we've shown you. " He was visibly shaking with anger, worrying Fenris enough stand up too.

But Kallian didn't need Fenris to fight her battles. She swung her bad foot onto the ground and threw her weight into standing up, shaking her pointer finger at Namir like a mother scolding their child.

"Hospitality? Is being tied up and blindfolded like a hog your twisted idea of hospitality?" She was equally as furious, equally shaking in anger, but hobbling on her good leg and failing to look equally as menacing. "You don't scare me shem. If the Alienage Bann can't terrorize me into compliance, you most certainly won't."

Her lips curled into a sneer, startling Fenris. Images of her fiery tirade back at the Alam docks came flooding in bits and pieces to his memory, causing a headache to throb at his temple. He sat back down in a hurry, flinching at he felt the blood pound in his head.

David cleared his throat, placing a hand on his brother's shoulders. "We have clearly… how do you say…. gotten off on the wrong foot. Let us start over, shall we?" He gestured to Kallian, inviting her to sit back down on her seat. She did so, pushing aside help from one of the guards when they tried fussing over her ankle.

"Our numbers are small, but our cause _is_ honorable. We take in all victims of this chaos, knowing we are not the only ones who've suffered because of this conflict. Tevinter magisters desecrate our lands, hunt for sport, and have no respect for anyone or anything. But the Qunari are no better, set in stone with their ways, unforgiving and tyrannical. We only wish to be free of all oppression. Surely _you_, of all people must understand."

Kallian grumbled under her breath, shooting a glare at Namir and looking to Fenris for some kind of reaction. He had none for her, dealing with the pain of his headache. After an awkward moment of silence digesting all that'd been said and done, Kallian nodded her head at David. This surprised Fenris even more.

"That's wonderful and all, but we're not looking to join or anything if that is what you're getting at. We," pointing to Fenris and herself, "just need to get to Seheron capital city. That's all." Her voice softened. She was obviously moved by their plight but Fenris could not help but roll his eyes, raising two fingers to massage his temple. _Please do not let this go where I think this is…_

"Then allow us to help you…" David replied, offering his hand passively to Kallian.

Unconvinced, Fenris raised a high brow, "If…?" he finished.

"If you help _us_."

_Maker have mercy, this is going where I think this is…_

"And how do you propose we do that?" Fenris asked.

Namir cleared his throat, interjecting, "We are nomadic. We have travelled these jungles many times and we know it well. We sometimes venture to nearby towns like Seheron to resupply. In fact, we are en route to there as we speak and are due to cross paths with it soon. We will help you get there, if you lend your hand to our cause along the way."

Fenris shook his head. "No."

Kallian looked at him; face scrunched and surprised at his reaction. He didn't even give the proposition a second thought.

"If we send you off into the jungles, you _will_ perish. This way you have food and shelter, and we can also supply you with gear and other provisions," Namir offered, eyeing particularly at the gaping holes in Kallian's shirt, specifically the ones where there had been sleeves. Fenris had no doubt he was eyeing a little more than just that. "In return, you help us stop the occasional band of slavers, liberate a cargo of new slaves, and maybe even sabotage a Tevinter or Qunari weapons cache or two."

"We'll follow the coastline," Fenris spat, uninterested.

Namir rebutted, "There is a jetty that blocks your way. You'll never cross it and you cannot swim around it."

"We will double back to the main road."

"How?" the Fog warrior laughed, "do you even know which way is back?"

Fenris glared at Namir. His insufferable grin made his hand twitch. He fought the urge to overturn their table, knowing it would do little to improve their situation and all the more to make it worse.

Before Fenris could say anything else, Kallian exclaimed, "How long will it be till you pass by Seheron?"

"No more than a few weeks," Namir responded. He was firm in his assertion.

Chewing on her lower lip in contemplation, Kallian turned to Fenris for guidance. Her eyes were round and pleading, obviously wishing for his permission to stay. He shot her a look, baffled that she was even contemplating the offer. She shot him back an equally pointed look before answering to David, "We'll think about it and let you know in the morning…"

Fenris scowled. This was not turning out like anything he'd planned at all and by the tone of Kallian's voice he already knew her mind had been made up. There was no way he could know _for sure_ but something in his gut told him so. He just knew.

The Fog warrior chieftain nodded, "Of course. With everything you have already been through…" Pushing himself away from the table, David rose to his feet slowly. "Whatever the decision, we will return your weapons and belongings to you in the morning."

Rising from his seat as well, Namir took his wine in hand and offered his free one to Kallian with the other one. He wore a smug toothy grin that Fenris wanted to rip off his face. "It is getting late. If you are ready, I will escort you to the ladies' quar – "

"No," Kallian said. Butterflies fluttered, choking Fenris' windpipe.

Namir gave her a confused look, baffled by her reaction. "Pardon?"

"I said, no. Not leaving."

"But –"

"Deaf much? Paint clogging up your ears? I said no."

Sensing the possibility of more conflict, David interjected before another shouting match could commence. "My brother is right. It is getting late and you must be very tired. Please, finish your meal. Ezra will tend to your wounds. Rest and let us finish this discussion in the morrow." With that he led his confused younger brother out of the tent, guards at their tail.

Now left alone, Kallian turned to Fenris. Her angry features softened.

"What do you think?" She asked, twisting her hands together nervously.

He sighed deeply, hanging his head low. "I think… you are crazy."

Kallian rolled her eyes, rolling her hands in small circles as if she were trying to hurry everything along. "Yeah, yeah. We've already established this. I meant about their offer. What do you think?" Not waiting for his response, she answered her own question. "I think it's a great opportunity. We should do it."

Fenris stared at her, furrowing his brow in frustration. "Woman! –"

"Kallian! I have a name dammit. Use it."

Taken aback, he stared at her. Every time he tried to finish his sentence, Kallian interrupted him until he relented to say her name again. "Kal…" he struggled. "Kal… lian…"

It sounded strange and unnatural on his tongue; felt awkward even though earlier it had rolled off with ease. Fenris shook his head furiously, redirecting his attention towards Kallian. "You are strange, even for a Ferelden. You trust a dying stranger saved from wreckage based on 'faith', an uncharted and dangerous jungle based on misguided intuition, and now a rebel group of terrorists based on what? A pitiful declaration of freedom and independence? Is your home really worth all this trouble? This would have never happened if we had stuck to –"

"Do _not_ say 'I told you so,' or so help me, I will strike you!"

And there they were those little flames in her eyes again. Fenris was certain this was a figment of his imagination, maybe even a symptom from his previous near comatose state. Surely he must have suffered some brain damage from that explosion? Either way, he shrank down and resolved not to finish his statement but completing it in his mind. Earlier, he had thought of himself a burden to her but now he'd begun to think maybe it was his life that would be easier without _her_.

Finally he grumbled, "It is a bad idea. I want nothing to do with it." He turned his attention to the food before them. It was cold by now though it didn't stop him from digging in.

Kallian had no reply for what he said, merely opting to eat in silence before hobbling towards her bed cot, decanter of wine under her arms.

Fenris felt slightly guilty for not helping her but Maker's bollocks this woman infuriated him beyond comprehensible words. So petrified with anger, he did not have the energy to fight off the medic Ezra who approach him following the conclusion of their meal. The guards had returned only to bring spare blankets and take away the empty plates.

He rose from his seat tired and allowed the healer to finish removing his armor. The heavy steel breastplate hit the floor with a thud as it was cast aside to the corner of the tent. He stifled a whine as Ezra gingerly removed the linen shirt he wore underneath, raising his arms over his head to facilitate the process.

Unknown to Fenris, Kallian laid in her bedroll feigning sleep. He had not noticed her rolling over, peaking one eye open just in time to awkwardly catch him with his shirt off. Arms held up in the air accentuated the bulk of lean muscles in his shoulders and back. She watched as the muscles corded, tensed, and unwind with his slow movements.

A breath hitched in her throat that he did not hear as her eyes travelled down the curve of his spine stopping squarely just above his taut _derrière_. Embarrassed, she blinked several times before turning over to look away, eyes tightly shut as she tried pushing aside the curious musings that crept into her mind. Such beautiful tattoos, she thought as she fell fast asleep.

As Ezra applied a fresh layer of salve, Fenris turned to glance over his shoulders at Kallian. She infuriated him, yes, but he had made a resolution with himself to help her get home. The sooner the better. His lyrium brandings itched, voices yelled at him to turn around and wait in the ruins of Alam.

"This looks good," Ezra whispered, changing the linen bandages with fresh new ones. He poured Fenris another cup of herbal tea, handing it over to him before inching towards Kallian's bed roll. He examined her ankle with only his eyes, not touching her injury the way he'd touched Fenris.

"Sprained but not broken. I'll have something for her in the morning. Typically a wound like this would take weeks to heal without divine intervention. She will be walking normally in a week's time."

Fenris nodded in response, though not quite understanding this 'divine intervention' the shaman was speaking of. He turned his gaze to Kallian as the tent flap swung closed, leaving them alone at last. Taking a deep breath, he sipped his hot tea in quiet contemplation.

He battled between many opposing forces. Some said to run away from the Fog warriors and leave. Others agreed, arguing to just leave her and return to Alam. But ultimately guilt told him to stay. He had a debt to repay her and she placed blind trust in him.

Foolish, but perhaps he thought to himself, maybe he would try having a little of this 'faith' Kallian was so fond of.

* * *

><p><strong>Fun facts:<strong>

_David_ (pronounced DaH-veed) means 'blessed.' Fitting for a leader, yes?

_Namir_ means 'leopard' or 'panther.' Meow.

_Ezra_ means 'help.'

Thank you to everyone who has subscribed and reviewed. It means a lot.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Given the strange circumstances in which Fenris had woken up to over the past few days, this morning was no exception. It was the soft pitter patter of rain against the canvas tent's roof that stirred him awake but the warm and feathery light tickling at his side was what made his eyes snap wide open. A startled yelp and some flailing around caused the medic Ezra to take a step back, perturbed at having his healing ritual interrupted.

As Fenris leapt from his bed roll, he searched the smoke filled room with squinted eyes, panicked, and still half asleep. They fell immediately on Kallian, who sat hunched over in a stool not too far away. She nursed a cup of hot tea in her hands, blowing away the hot steam with gentle puffs of air exhaled from her lungs. Her hair was still slightly damp and laid loose on her shoulders in wet tangles. She sported her cutoff clothes, boot on one foot and bandage wrapped around the sprained one. Fenris could see her shoulders tremble as she silently chuckled.

"Don't worry Ezra. He's a little jumpy with people who like to help him. At least he didn't have you twisted on the floor," she recalled, bemused.

Fenris scowled at her comment, vividly remembering his reaction to waking up to her tending his wound a few days earlier.

The aging shaman nodded his head towards Kallian resuming his ritual of smoke and herbs, and fanned the spicy smog to whirl around Fenris. It made him dizzy and lightheaded but the warmth spread all over his skin, sinking into his wound and curling around his spine. He could literally _feel_ his muscles unwind and loosen, the way his health potion made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside the day before.

A part of him questioned the nature of this 'ritual' but he could not control his eyes from closing to relish the soothing sensations of painlessness. He felt at ease, at last. The unbearable searing pain from yesterday was little more than tingling pins and needles now. No more painful than regaining sensation to a limb after accidentally sleeping on it for an evening.

When Fenris finally opened his eyes Ezra had gathered his things together. The shaman left a pouch of herbs with Kallian but not a word was spoken to him. In fact, Ezra left before Fenris could even say thank you, limping out of the tent and leaning on his cane for support. A part of Fenris wanted to know what Ezra had said to Kallian on his way out.

As the tent flap swung shut, Fenris sat back down on his cot and turned to face his companion. Her back was still turned away from him as if she were hiding from his gaze. He remembered last evening, the tense conversation they had and his vehement disapproval of her idea to join the Fog warriors. No, not join. Merely accompany, as they had so eloquently proposed.

Still, he disapproved of her actions but felt fairly guilty at the way he reacted. After all, she hadn't actually said _yes_. There was still a chance she would decline the offer. He hadn't given her much credit. There was still a chance…

Then something glinting in the lamp light caught his eye. His weapon and knapsack were leaning against the wall of the tent, though the backpack looked considerably fuller than he remembered packing. The absence of Kallian's items did not go unnoticed. He was just about to question her when she spoke up first.

"I've been thinking a lot, Fenris, and I realized I've been of a bit of an arse. In fact, I've been a huge arse, and I'm sorry."

He raised a brow, cocking his head to the side as he stared at the back of her head.

"I put you in a really rough situation when I saved your life. I mean, literally I put you in a debt and made you obligated to repay it… I forced your hand, there's no nice way to put it," she sighed, somberly confessing. He could see her shoulders slouch low, like something heavy was weighed upon them.

She continued not letting him speak. "I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that. I am truly sorry. I've asked David for your things. You shouldn't be forced to stay with me if you don't want to and it's very clear you don't."

When she finally turned around, he could see her face was red and puffy like she'd been crying for some time and his heart just leapt into his throat. How long had she been crying, and did she cry… over _him_? He was stunned. She was a bundle of surprises. He was nothing to her; was nothing to anyone but Danarius, and yet Kallian seemed upset over the idea of losing him.

"This entire time, I've been dragging you along with me," she confessed, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "Never once did I think you had a family of your own to go see or take care of. I'm so sorry, have I said that enough times? I feel like an absolute shithead." She rolled her eyes up to look away from him fighting back more tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks.

He laughed a low and bemused laugh. A_ shithead_? How typical of her, he thought, how completely and totally typical and yet endearing of her…

"There's um… an extra set of clothes in your bag." Her voice was cracking though she tried to keep herself together for his sake. "And some sturdy shoes and enough food to last you a few days. Ezra also made some extra tea for you," holding up the pouch in her free hand. "And I convinced Namir to show you to the main road so um… you know… you can be on your way…"

_Good. Crazy Ferelden broad's finally come to her senses. Now back to Alam, Fenris. Danarius is probably waiting for you with the Imperium guards…_

"Stop crying." His voice was rough. Fenris resolved to soften it to the best of his abilities. "I'm not leaving you."

_What are you doing? She's letting you go! What are __**you**__ saying?_

Kallian gave him a look that was a mixture of astonishment and joy and skepticism. Her eyes shot from the ceiling to him in half a second's time. The tears welled up at her waterline fell freely. He still did not know if it was from joy or sadness but the lines of her face were straight and set in an expression akin to a startled deer.

Somehow she managed to blurt out, stammering, "I…beg your pardon?" There was no missing the disbelief in her tone.

Fenris paused, deliberately searching for the correct response. He was in conflict with himself, yes. A voice was yelling all sorts of Tevinter profanities at him, but a tug in his chest told him if he didn't stay with her, then he'd regret it for the rest of his days.

Perhaps deep down he still had some twisted sense of chivalry that Hadrianna failed to torture out of him. Or perhaps he just did not particularly like the idea of being forever indebted to someone. Regardless, this particular elf had shown kindness and charity to him in return for something so minute, small, and minor Fenris could not just simply _walk_ away from her.

Slowly he said, "I cannot, in good conscience, leave you." Heat rose to redden his cheeks. He felt dizzy and lightheaded all over again, blaming it this time on the spicy smoke wafting in the air.

Kallian's brows furrowed. Her mouth hung agape and formed a small 'O' in surprise.

Fenris had begun to fear he'd said the wrong thing. This wasn't quite the reaction he had been expecting but then again when it came to Kallian everything was unexpected. She was unpredictable and predictable in every sense of the word.

"Are you mocking me?" She asked, softly and slowly with a hint of suspicious in her voice. What was the matter with this woman? Why does she always think everyone is mocking her? He pondered for a moment on that thought… chances were as a city elf, people probably were always mocking her.

"…No…?" It came out more like a question than an answer but she accepted it anyways. It surprised even Fenris. He made a mental note to himself to tell her to be less trusting. Words are just words, unless they are followed by actions.

She gave him a small smile before rising to her feet. There was a small limp to her gait but not as exaggerated as last evening. Whatever Ezra had done for her was miraculous. He'd witness this type of injury in Danarius' household before. They usually took months to heal, especially since his master gave his slaves no time to recuperate and made them work through the pain.

Kallian closed the space between them quickly. She sat down next to Fenris on his bed roll and handed over the cup of tea she'd been nursing earlier.

"Thank you," she praised. "For deciding to stay. It means a lot to me." His words must have truly made an impact on her. He reciprocated the smile, taking the tea from her.

He blew on it before taking a sip, focusing his attention onto the warm medicinal beverage. His eyes were set on the mug of amber liquid, willing his blushing to go away while Kallian kept her eyes on him like a bird of prey. As he savored the sweet herbal remedy, the unmistakable scent of fresh river water and something syrupy crept upon him.

Unmistakable.

It was the scent of Kallian, sitting next to him. It was in her hair and her clothes.

"You smell like tea," he muttered before he could stop himself. Like honey and flowers and fresh water. Crisp but fragrant.

She laughed awkwardly at his comment before looking down at herself with a similar awkward expression on her face. Then, she picked up her shirt and smelled it, questioningly.

"Oh. Sorry. It's the soap I borrowed. The women make it from lavender and honey…"

_I knew it…_

"Does it bother you? I'll take another bath if it's overwhelming…"

Willpower failing, Fenris blushed again. He was quick to blurt out his answer, "No! I mean… you smell… fine. It's fine…"

She frowned at him. Was that another inappropriate response? She started shifting in her spot, averting her gaze as she crossed, uncrossed, and recrossed her legs. Fenris had no choice but to drink his tea in silence.

"How long have you been awake?" He finally asked, breaking the spell and noting the dreary weather that beat against the canvas tent.

"Only a few hours. The rain woke me and I couldn't fall back asleep so… I went to see Namir and to fetch Ezra, and luckily the other women were waking up too and they showed me to the river. Had the most amazing bath ever," she said, with a dreamy tone. He envied her. Yes, a bath sounded very wonderful. No wonder she smelled so… fresh… and clean… and delicious... like tea.

Fenris turned to Kallian, peering over the rim of his cup as he tilted it into his mouth to gulp the last of it down.

She noted his gaze, wide-eyed and filled with something resembling hopeful at the mention of a bath.

"You want one?" She asked, causing both his eyebrows to disappear into his hairline. Was she offering to _bathe _him? Technically, her caretaking skills were more than adequate; they were superb and in all honesty, Fenris would not have put it passed her to actually do it.

The look on his face was priceless. All Kallian could do was laugh, tossing her head back as she did so.

"No," she managed to choke out in between gasps of air. "_No_, I am not going to bathe you," like she'd read his mind. "I'll show you were the river is, silly."

Fenris nodded his head enthusiastically. The thought of a bath was wonderful. Maker knows he needed one, not to mention it had been a while since his last. He could not stop himself from dipping his head down to smell between his arms, scrunching his nose at the musky scent of body odor. Yes, he most certainly needed a bath and he needed one desperately.

As he opened his mouth to respond, his stomach did so for him. A loud noise rumbled in his belly, causing Kallian to burst out in more laughter. The seriousness of their previous conversation went out the window. Everything was airy and lighthearted again.

"Would you like something to eat first?" She asked, trying to be serious and failing at it. The thought was considerate. Fenris merely shook his head 'yes' as another rumble resonated louder than the one  
>before. Kallian giggled as she got up. She mumbled something about returning no time before slipping out of the tent. Left alone, Fenris had more time to think. Some of them were positive, others were negative. It left him with a huge headache the more he thought about it.<p>

It felt as if two forces were tugging at him. The logical and calculated slave within screamed at him for the poor choices he was making while the inquisitive and curious side wanted to know more, if only just to see how it would all turn out in end. He turned away from the tent flap, rising carefully to his feet. The tingly pins and needles feeling still hadn't left his side and to satiate the curiosity, he touched it cautiously. It didn't hurt but it still felt tender to the touch.

Fenris walked over to his knapsack, rummaging through it till he found the spare clothes Kallian said were in there. He laid them out on the bare table, rubbing at the material of the fabric until he was satisfied with its quality. Then he turned to the boots. Of equally fine material he thought, but so unlike him. He was never one to wear shoes and highly doubted he would start now. Instead, Fenris simply placed them back down next to the backpack and returned his attention to the shirt and slacks.

First he took off his top, giving him easier access to the bandage wrapped around his torso. With deft fingers he undid the knot that tied it off, eager to examine the damage for the first time ever since waking up days ago. He pulled away the linens carefully, anticipating pain as he peeled the fabric away from his skin. Surprised that there was none, Fenris peeked his eyes opened and examined his gash. There was also none. In its place was a scar, angry red but smooth as a baby's rump. It was smeared in salve but the wound that Kallian had complained about and tended to was simply not there. Just a healed scar in its place.

Fenris eyed his empty mug questioningly. Just exactly what was in that tea and what 'ritual' had Ezra performed his morning? Blood magic? Couldn't be. There was no way Kallian would condone it, not that he _really_ knew anyways, but something in his gut told him so.

This feeling of trusting his proverbial 'gut' was still distinctively new but somehow he was getting the hang of it. Must have something to do with this new dose of 'faith' he was also trying out.

Shaking his thoughts away, Fenris returned his attention to his new clothes. They looked comfortable and inviting, and no longer could he wait to get them on. Quickly, he used his old shirt to wipe clean his wound with a little bit of lukewarm water left in the tea pot. It felt odd to the touch, the pins and needles bringing him to the verge of tickling laughter.

In a swift motion, he undid the ties to his trousers and slipped them down, kicking them aside with his foot. But before he could reach for the new clothing, the tent flap swung open and Kallian emerged with a steaming bowl of porridge and a plate of fruit.

He stood before her stark naked as the day he was born, startled by her sudden and unannounced entrance. She blushed redder than he'd ever seen, all the way from her neck up to the points of her ears. He watched as her eyes travelled over his front, across the planes of his chiseled chest and trailing downward towards… well… exactly how far his lyrium tattoos went. Fenris could not help but smirk a little when her eyes ventured between his legs and her mouth hung slightly agape.

His amusement turned into confusion when she turned away, stammering apologies, and covering her eyes. Was she ashamed? Was she revolted? Was the sight of him vile to her, he feared.

Cockiness receded to bashful as he tugged his new trousers on. Kallian was still turned away when he approached her. She was startled by his hand on her shoulder, nearly dropping the tray of food in the process if it weren't for Fenris' quick reflexes. Before he could speak, she shoved the tray in his hands and walked out, muttering something about waiting outside and to come get her when he was ready and decent.

It took him little time to pull on the rest of his clothes, and even less time to scarf down the bowlful of porridge. He heard some rustling outside and muffled voices talking. All it did was encourage him to finish his food. The idea of a bath was too enticing to pass up.

Whatever embarrassment Kallian felt over walking in on him naked had dissipated. By the time Fenris emerged from his tent, he saw his companion speaking with the Fog warrior scion animatedly and enthusiastically. The encounter was much different from the one last evening. She was even reciprocating his toothy smiles, oblivious that Fenris had even walked out of their tent.

He quickened his stride, hoping to intercept them. As he moved closer, their conversation became more audible and clear.

"And what has your friend decided?" Namir asked, with a cocky grin.

"He's staying… with me." She chimed proudly, surprising even Fenris with the adoration in her voice. Adoration… for him?

Namir brought his hands over his chest as if he'd been injured by her words. It was accompanied by a feigned pained look on his face. "O… such a shame. I was looking forward to getting to know you on a more… _intimate_ level…" he purred.

Even from afar, Fenris could see a crossed look on Kallian's face. It was in her eyes, that's how he could tell, while Namir couln't.

She smiled sweetly at the Fog warrior, inching closer to him with her palms held up as if ready to brace against the human's broad chest. Kallian caught Fenris' eyes, glancing over Namir's shoulders as he approached them.

"Not in this lifetime, shem," she whispered, sending her good foot forward to give Namir a good kick in the shin. The tall Fog warrior doubled forward instinctively to grab his knee when Kallian's hands pushed his shoulders down, sending the statuesque man into a puddle of mud behind him.

Fenris snorted, walking around the fallen warrior to Kallian's side. She turned to him with a cheeky grin, eyes wide and innocent.

"Ready for that bath?" she asked, though she did not wait for his answer to grab his hand and pull him in a direction into the jungle. The air smelled crisp and wet. From behind him, he heard the laughter of many Fog warriors as Namir sloppily got himself to his feet, but it was the low laugh of the scion that caught Fenris off guard, echoing in his ear long after they were out of earshot.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The rest of the day passed without much incident. Whatever Kallian felt or thought about their encounter earlier was swept under the metaphorical rug. She seemed to be good at doing things like that; brushing aside confrontations and awkward moments, and pretending they didn't happen.

It was… an odd characteristic of hers that left Fenris feeling unhinged. On one hand, he wondered if she'd been offended by him. On the other, she acted as if nothing was the matter. The truth was unknown and Fenris had a feeling there would be no coaxing it out of her.

She showed him to the river. It was only a short trek outside the camp, and it looked more like a small stream than an _actual_ raging river, but who was he to complain? A bath was a bath regardless and he was grateful for it. Kallian handed him a bar of soap and a towel before settling herself on a fallen tree log a few paces ahead of him. It was just far enough to give him privacy but still within earshot should he need help. She sat with her back facing him, quickly burying her head in a manuscript about a thick as his thumb was tall. Fenris was left alone to his own ministrations.

Wanting to waste no more time, Fenris stripped out of his clothes and threw them over a low hanging branch to keep them off the damp jungle ground. Then he wadding into the shallow water bank. It was chilly as expected but the current was quite stronger than anticipated. He struggled to keep his footing on slick rocks, opting to retreat back closer to the edge in order not to get swept away by the fast moving tide. Glancing over his shoulders, he saw Kallian was immersed in her book, having not lifted an eye or finger and was simply minding her own business as Fenris got on with his own.

He shrugged, wondering if this were a normal reaction to having seen someone naked unexpectedly. Then he frowned again realizing if perhaps she really did find him repulsive… would she be sitting right there still bothering to tend to him? Probably not, he thought as he dipped his soap into the freshwater and worked it into a delightful lather.

The pungent aroma of lavender and honey surrounded him as he massaged the soap into his hair and behind his ears. He closed his eyes to relish the feeling of cleanliness, believing for just the briefest moment that he was a free man.

* * *

><p>Kallian made damned sure her eyes were fixated on the words in her textbook. It was a boring section but an interesting book at least. Ezra had lent it to her after noticing how well of a job she'd done patching up Fenris' wound. She explained all the things her mother had taught her and he magically (figuratively?) produced a text on herbal remedies to injuries.<p>

It was overall… fascinating. About as fascinating as learning how to pick out ripe elfroot and which parts of blood lotus to use for potions and poultices-making could be. But the main reason she kept her eyes focused on the ink on the paper was to keep them from straying to the ink on Fenris' flesh.

His lyrium tattoos were a whole new level of _fascinating_. Sometimes they glowed. She wondered if he knew that. Of course he probably did. They were branded into his flesh for Andraste's sake. How could he _**not**_ know that they glowed?

They were beautiful and he was beautiful. The sharp contrast of light and dark on his body was mesmerizing. It took all her self-control not to simply reach out and trace the silvery-white swirl on the curve of his spine no matter how badly she wanted to, and the Maker knew how badly she wanted to.

But the funny thing was… it wasn't exactly anything she hadn't seen nor _touched_ before. She had dressed his wound several times since their first chance encounter. And she'd seen him without his shirt, albeit trousers on, many times too. But for some reason, the appeal didn't hit quite as hard until he was awake, fully conscious and back-talking to her, as argumentative and resistant as he was. He was about as fascinating and complex as his tattoos.

_Hm,_ she thought as she felt her eyes drift from the page upward.

A tiny voice chided her. _Curiosity killed the cat tsk tsk_.

Didn't Soris tell her that once? She thought, ruefully. He probably did. He always was the cautious cousin getting dragged along with Kallian and Shianni as they got themselves in trouble.

_Good thing I'm no cat_, she answered to herself, re-reading the second line in the third paragraph for the fifth time in a pitiful attempt to keep from spying on Fenris' bathing.

* * *

><p>Fenris took his time with his bath. It was as if he were testing the waters of his freedom, wadding around in the stream till his toes were numb from the cold and fingers shriveled and prune-y. The rain started falling harder with the passing time. When the misty drizzle turned into near downpour, he decided it was time to retreat back to camp. Thunder rumbled not too far in the distance, prompting both of them to break into a sprint towards camp after gathering their things in a rush.<p>

They raced against each other, having made a silent bet to see which injured individual was still fit enough to best the other; Fenris with his miraculous, nearly healed gash or Kallian with her sore, formerly sprained ankle? In the end, the Tevinter elf made it to their tent first only because of a weak excuse Kallian made before ducking into the mess hall tent.

She returned several minutes later with a kettle of steaming water and a tray of food; just in time before the rain fell upon them with full force. It was only later that Fenris realized she'd probably let him win on purpose in order to skip having to be in the same room as he re-dressed.

Sneaky, he thought, even more confused than before. For a woman who had no problem undressing in front of him, it seemed a bit odd that she would have a problem with him being naked around _her_. He rolled his eyes at the thought, pushing it to the back of his mind as he picked up one of the oddly shaped fruits Kallian had brought back with her.

Towel still in his hand, he furiously rubbed his scalp and hair with it as he poked and prodded at the fruit's plumage of waxy green leaves at the top. He was perplexed by the exterior of the fruit. It was covered by hardened spikey pines, like a pinecone but much, much larger. When Fenris realized what he was doing, he quickly withdrew his hand and threw the towel over his face to cover up the embarrassment of having done a Kallian-esque thing.

She hadn't noticed. He knew if she had, she'd be giggling herself to oblivion by now. But she wasn't. Her eyes were glued to that manuscript again and he could not figure out for the life of him _why_? What could be so important in that book that she'd missed a chance to giggle at him for?

Fenris shook his head, haphazardly tossing his wet towel aside before pulling on his shirt. He picked up his gear and sat down on a nearby stool, pulling the breastplate onto his lap. If she wasn't going to speak with him then the least he could do was busy himself. He began cleaning his gear with a vial of mineral oil, keeping his eyes fixated on the steel. Kallian laid in her cot reading whatever it was that she was reading and being overall silent without him having asked her to be.

The silence was unsettling. Not knowing was unnerving. _Maker's bollocks, this woman was exasperating!_

* * *

><p>"You know what I realized?" Kallian finally declared after many hours, snapping shut her book and putting it aside as she sat up in her cot.<p>

Fenris picked up his head and looked at her with raised brows.

_You're a walking magnet for trouble? You're more complicated than how to tie on mage's robes?_

"I realized," she said cheerfully, "I know absolutely nothing about you!"

_That's it? What is there even to know?_ Fenris seriously doubted anything about him was interesting or worth talking about.

He finally replied, "Neither do I" in a cool and steely tone.

"But you know I'm from Ferelden! And that's more than I know about you, aside from your name. Where are you from Fenris? What's your life story? Tell me about yourself!" She rushed out a million more questions than Fenris could possibly answer.

It was hard for him to tell whether she was being sarcastic or not. He eyed her with brows still raised feeling uncomfortable under her wide-eyed scrutiny. Instead, he placed his gear on the ground and began cleaning up his mess of oil-sodden cloths. He didn't like talking, much less about himself. There wasn't much to be said anyways, considering he remembered nothing of his life outside of Danarius' reign of terror. So, he did the next best thing. He asked her a question instead.

"What is so important in Ferelden that you need to get back to?" Fenris gulped thickly, hoping it would be enough for her to forget any inquisitions she had about him and start talking about herself.

She took the bait as he had hoped. Kallian seemed to like talking no matter the subject.

She seemed taken aback by his question, and scoffed as if the answer was obvious the whole time. "My family, silly. What else?"

_A lover or two, maybe?  
><em>

Fenris shook his head straight, forcing those thoughts out of his mind. Totally plausible but now was not the time to dwell on something like that. Instead, he raked through his mind for another  
>question.<p>

"If your family is in Ferelden, then how did you get here?" He knew the answer of course. Someone brought her here. No one could ever have possibly assumed this lifestyle by choice. It was always abduction or out of desperation, but never free choice. Who in their right mind would have ever chosen such a fate…?

She turned away from him. Fenris could see her resolve shake a little but only enough to have her anxious but not undone. She took a slow deep breath, composing herself before answering him in that sing-song casual voice he absolutely loathed.

"Oh! Well, one day I was in a prison cell… the next I was in a crate… and after that I was on a boat… and next thing I knew I was here in Seheron, and some bat-shit crazy woman kept beating me with a stick. Heh," she shrugged her shoulders.

Humor was usually one of the first defense mechanism new non-native slaves used. Fenris recognized it immediately, not even bothering to laugh a little with her and play along.

She scowled at his serious face, annoyed that her deflection failed. Fenris wanted to know more. He wanted to truth. Kallian sighed but reluctantly gave it to him.

"My mother was sort of a trouble maker."

Fenris frowned without realizing it, making a face that Kallian could not miss.

"I know, I know. Who knew!" She said sarcastically, before returning to her normal tone. "She was… a _formidable_ and resourceful rogue. Taught me everything I know, but she was a troublemaker… like me, or rather I guess I'm like her." Her smile was faint as she reminisced about her mother.

Fenris felt a slight tug of jealousy, having no recollection of his own. He wanted to desperately believe she hadn't condemned him to this life, but all sources said she most likely did. Most Tevinter families sold children into slavery to ward off starvation, if only for a brief period of time.

Not wanting to invite any speculation, Fenris kept his mouth tight-lipped and expression neutral, gesturing for Kallian to continue her story.

She chewed on her lip a little trying to figure out the correct words or terms to use and while trying to be as aloof with the subject as possible.

"One night, we were walking home together when a gang of Denerim guards stopped us." Her voice cracked a little, involuntarily as if merely recounting the memory brought her to a darker place.

"Pompous royal bastards. And I mean that quite literally. The lot of them… all bastard children born out of wedlock to the Banns, Arls, and Teryns of Ferelden."

She took another deep breath. "They said there was an outstanding warrant for my mother's arrest. We didn't even resist but they still threw us in the dungeons anyways."

Fenris nodded to show he was paying attention but he could see her eyes were staring passed him now.

"No food. No water… they finally released us when my father used my dowry to pay off the bail."

_Dowry? She was betrothed?_

**Focus Fenris, focus!**

"They came back later that night, broke down the door… and there was shouting. Some fighting and then everything went dark. I think I hit my head."

She looked away. He watched as her small hands twisted the blanket beneath her. Out of fear? Anger?

"Did they…?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"No!" she exclaimed, shaking her head. "No, at least I don't think so." Her face contorted, as if she were trying very hard to remember something but couldn't. "No, absolutely not. I'd remember something like that… if they did…"

She sighed, loosening the vice grip on the blanket and splaying her fingers out till her palm was flat, smoothing away the wrinkles under her hand. Fenris didn't know how to respond. Her story was not particularly unique, nor was it particularly sad. He had heard several sob stories just like hers – all equally heart wrenching and distressing, but that didn't mean he couldn't still feel sorry for her.

The only response he could muster was one he'd heard the most.

"I'm sorry."

Kallian laughed coolly, though it wasn't her intent to scoff at his sympathy for her. "What for? It's not like you put me here."

_That is true…_

"I just hope… I hope they're all alright…," guilt riddled in her voice. She felt guilt for something out of her control which caused Fenris to frown at himself. He hadn't meant to upset her yet somehow he managed to do it anyways.

Kallian noticed his sullen expression. She got up from her cot and walked over to him. Before he could flinch and pull away, she reached for his hand encasing it with her own.

"Hey! I'm alright, I swear. Don't feel bad for me. I certainly don't!"

Fenris chewed on his lip, trying to pull his hands away but unable to escape her grip. He was nervous to ask his next question, curious to know exactly how special this family could be to have her undying devotion to them.

She noticed the conflict in his countenance, mustering up a small smile to put on the appearance of bravery. "What?" she asked, sheepishly.

He answered slowly with his question, "What is your family like?"

Kallian seemed to cheer up instantly, excited to answer with elaborate and amusing stories about her cousins Soris and Shianni, and endearing tales of her loving father and misadventurous mother. Ready to spin tales like a bard, Kallian pulled over a stool and sat facing Fenris. She was giddy with the opportunity to speak and practically dancing on her two feet with more energy than he had ever seen her with. It was good to know she could bounce back so quickly. Whatever defense mechanisms she adapted to during her stint as a slave probably spared her from a lifetime of post-traumatic stress. If only Fenris were so lucky.

After a while of recanting countless tales of tree climbing, cat chasing, and practical jokes, Kallian ran out of breath and Fenris dared to show a little smile.

"It seems like you have a wonderful family. I can see why you are so eager to be reunited with them." That was meant to be a compliment. Fenris hoped it had come across as such.

Kallian shrugged her shoulders lightly, wide grin on her face, "Well… when you live in an Alienage, you make do with what you've got, ya know?"

He didn't seem to quite understand. There were no Alienages in Tevinter. Almost all elves were slaves. Those who dared to escape were often recaptured, re-indentured, or executed. The lucky few whose freedom was sanctioned by the Imperium often left Tevinter for better prospects elsewhere or just sold themselves back into a life of servitude for little coin. The Imperium was no safe place for elves. Not in the least.

He tentatively, ignorantly asked, "What is your Alienage like?"

Kallian laughed, nonchalantly rolling her eyes as the list of atrocities rolled off her tongue. "Like most Alienages. Not as large as the one in Highever but crowded, dirty, and poverty stricken. We're treated like second class citizens. Ridiculed, bullied, and sometimes beaten. Meh," she concluded.

Just meh. Like that. Like it was nothing!

Fenris cringed involuntarily, confused once more. "Sounds miserable."

She shrugged her shoulders again! Nonchalantly! "Typically is, but like I said, we make do. It's not so bad if you don't think of it that way."

_But you clearly __**do**__ think of it that way._ He wanted to say. "It sounds like a horrible place to live," _No better than the life of a slave. _"I do not understand why you are in such a hurry to get back there."

Kallian let go of his hand and crossed her arms defensively as if she had been insulted. "Because my family is there," she said, curtly.

Fenris scowled, annoyed with her indirectness. "So you've said but it seems like your Alienage is just a miserable place to be. Why not stay here and have a better life?" Deep down he wasn't sure if he'd meant stay here and continue to be a slave, or to simply stay with the Fog warriors and make a better life for herself. Either way, Fenris knew they were headed in the direction of an argument when Kallian's cheeks puffed up and she turned red with anger.

"It can be!" She sputtered, tripping over her own words in a rush to get them out in one breath. "But as long as you have family, it's not so bad!" It sounded unconvincing to Fenris. He began to wonder if she really believed that. "I know it doesn't make any sense…"

_Damn right it doesn't._

"I know it sounds crazy! Why choose one miserable lifestyle over another, but at least in the Alienage I have choices. Granted, they are limited but if I work really hard like my father I can get a job with a good wage, and hopefully kind employers, and make a better living for myself. Freedom is all about having choices!"

He frowned. None of it made any sense to him because as far as he could see she didn't have any choices in life. "But you don't have choices," he replied. "You didn't choose to become enslaved. You can't choose to not be an elf, and you can't choose not to be a second-class citizen. You are trading one form of slavery for another. I just don't understand."

Her cheeks puffed up more. He worried if he enraged her enough, perhaps she'd spontaneously combust.

"It's not like that at all. You can be successful if you work hard for it!" Kallian huffed.

Fenris still had a look of disbelief on his face, scowling once more at Kallian's ridiculous defense of elven freedom. "Doesn't seem like it at all. Sounds more like luck than anything else. Seems like success only happens if one is lucky enough to come across it. And even then, what type of success do you really have? Success as a whore? As a handmaiden? Sounds pathetic to me that your sole purpose in life is to be a servant in a household or a servant to a merchant. Either way, you are a servant… always enslaved… never your own master."

Her tightly balled up fists shook with mighty force. He was sure of it. She would burst at any moment now, probably go up in a plume of smoke and flames. It would be fitting, considering how much of a loose cannon spitfire she was.

Somehow she managed to spit out, "You don't understand."

He snorted in response, "You're right. I don't. Seems like a waste of time trying to get home."

Kallian got up on her feet in a hurry, stomping around him to the other end of the table. "What do you even know?" She spat, punctuating her rage with a single fell swoop of her knife, chopping off the top of the fruit and severing the plumage of leaves from its body. Fenris spun around in his head just in time to catch a peak of pale yellow flesh before Kallian spun it around to take off the fruit's base too.

Her quick slices and violent stabbing startled Fenris. He knew she could swing a sword, but he hadn't been exactly sure how proficient she was wielding a blade.

Impressed, he raised a brow when the once spikey hard fruit became a platter of juicy circular yellow slices. He reached across the table to take a piece, slowly as if afraid she'd chop off his hand with the blade still in hers. He was quick enough. She probably couldn't nick him even if she tried, but it was better to be cautious than sorry in the end.

With equal caution, he raised the fruit to his lips and took a slow bite, surprised at the pleasant sweetness of the fruit and not even realizing that juices had dribbled out the corner of his mouth.

Kallian let out a sigh, placing down her dagger on the table top calmly. "This is not what I had in mind for getting to know each other," she shook her head, closing her eyes as she took another deep breath.

Fenris swallowed his mouthful, and wiped up the sticky sweet mess he'd made with the sleeve of his shirt. The wind outside was beating on his tent at this point, whistling loudly as it blew in between the trees and structures.

"I didn't mean to offend, honest." It was the truth. It hadn't been his intentions to cause her distress.

"I know," she agreed, much to Fenris' surprise. "I just… forget sometimes."

He could tell from the weight of her words that perhaps this was a discussion she was no stranger to. In his opinion, he knew other slaves probably didn't understand her either and Fenris took small comfort in knowing he wasn't the only one. Still, despite her illogic, he was curious and wanted to know more. The crestfallen look on her face needed to instantly cheer up, and the only way Fenris knew how was to offer a piece of himself that she had wanted.

Softly he whispered, "I am told I come from Seheron… before…" He didn't know where to put his gaze. It landed on his forearms where his lyrium etchings began radiating in an ethereal glow that hypnotized her. As much as he wanted to lie and make up a tale as amazing as hers, he couldn't, feeling it would do her a great disservice. She had given her trust to him wholeheartedly; he should at least return it to the best of his ability.

Her gaze followed his, eyeing the tattoos keenly. She'd known him for several days now but had been polite enough not to stare or probe about the matter, no matter how much the curiosity gnawed at her. He felt like he owed her an explanation of some sorts. Perhaps the truth would make her see he was not the man she thought he was.

But Kallian with her knack for timing spoke up before he could explain. "They took you when you were very young, didn't they?"

And he only half lied when he said 'yes.'

Her eyes softened, shoulders slouched, as she fought with herself not to reach across the table and take his hand again. Pity would be the last thing Fenris wanted. She didn't want pity for herself, why would Fenris want any?

"So…" she said slowly, "You don't remember anything?" Another half-truth. Yes, he didn't remember anything but not for the reasons she thought were responsible.

"Well, while we are in Seheron, perhaps we could try and track down your family too? I'm sure they'd be happy to see you. To know you're alive and well and… free."

"No!" He hurriedly exclaimed. For all her time as a slave, she still did not understand. Fenris had no family, no memories, and no recollections. His 'family' was likely dead or enslaved themselves. It would be pointless to try and find them. He did what he thought was best, explaining, "They are no longer…"

Her eyes went wide. He thought tears would fall again as they did earlier in the morning. Even though his explanation was only a half-lie, Fenris felt the guilt of a full blown fib on his shoulders.

He coughed, deflecting the conversation in only a manner that Kallian could by shoving a piece of fruit in his mouth to keep him from speaking anymore. This conversation had become a lot deeper than he had expected, but was else _was_ he to expect? They were talking about slavery after all.

"I'm sorry," she offered to which Fenris could only reply with a slow nod.

And just like that, they spoke no more about families or Alienages, opting to eat instead before retiring to bed for a restless night's sleep as the rain continued to beat on the roof over their heads.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Fenris expected things to be far more awkward between him and Kallian following last night's immensely uncomfortable and confusing conversation. It was still fresh in his mind when he woke up, especially the half-truths and lies he had professed to in regards to his past.

He didn't know exactly what is prompted him to lie. Perhaps it was embarrassment about not being able to compare, or perhaps he didn't want to elicit pity from Kallian. Perhaps it was because he felt weak admitting something so private and personal and dangerously depressing to her. Whatever the case, he had lied. It was a small fib about a big deal.

However, true to Kallian's nature, she didn't bring up her family or his again and acted like their less-than-ideal discussion never happened.

That morning, Fenris woke up to a smoke filled room with Ezra performing his healing ritual. This shaman's visit was far less startling than the first. He opened his eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the fogginess in the room. Fenris could faintly hear rain drizzling outside over the hymn Ezra was chanting. As he shook the sleep from his eyes and stretched his limbs, he became distinctly aware of that the tingling sensation at his side from yesterday was no longer there.

He gave the shaman a curious glance as Ezra gathered his things, preparing to depart. Before the old man left though, he handed Fenris a cup of tea; the same tea he'd been drinking over the past couple of days. He took a light sip, just enough to quench his thirst before putting it away. When Ezra left, Fenris examined his wound.

He was surprised to see the angry red scar had become a pale pink hue and impossibly thinner than he had remembered. That gash itself was _physically_ smaller than he had remembered. It should have taken months for a laceration like that to properly heal but instead, the process had been boiled down to a mere few days of bed rest and tea sipping. Was it was the combination of medicine and alchemy, or maybe luck and faith? Either way, he was grateful for it even if he wasn't quite sure how it could've been possible without the aid of spirit magic.

Kallian returned shortly after Ezra left. Fenris was still tugging on his shirt when the tent flap flew wide open bringing in a gust of cold air. Involuntarily he shivered, prompting him to wrap his blanket around himself. He looked over to Kallian, who was setting down a tray of food on the small table. She was cheerfully whistling to herself and had her back turned to him as she put the breakfast spread out. He noticed she was no longer limping and standing on her two feet as if her injury never occurred. This only served to intensify the suspicions he had about Ezra being a mage.

Before he could inquire about her ankle, Kallian peeked over her shoulder and flashed him a wide grin.

"Come," she beckoned with a wave of her hand. "Let's eat!"

There was something mischievous about her tone.

He could see why as soon as he sat down at the table. Before him was a spread of unusual dishes. He only recognized the contents of one bowl. It contained porridge with some milk and dried raisins. But next to it was a large nut, propped curiously upright. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. It had a hard shell, was round and oblong, and green and bruised with some scratches. A hole had been cut out at the top exposing a thin layer of milky white flesh. Fenris could peer inside and see clear liquid swimming inside.

Kallian had a grin on her face that stretched from ear to ear. She was watching him intently, the way cats do when they're about to pounce on prey.

Fenris had a funny feeling he was about to become the butt of a joke.

Under her watchful eye, he picked up the oblong nut-fruit and examined it. He was both intrigued yet wary, swishing the liquid around before taking a sniff. It smelled sweet like sugar water, only… better.

"Take a sip," Kallian encouraged. "It's delicious," she said, like she'd read his mind and answered his doubts.

He raised a brow at her, still unable to delve into the mysterious clear liquid.

"What is it?" he asked, gruffly.

She giggled, bringing a hand up to rest her chin against her palm.

"It's a coconut," she answered, voice teetering on the edge of teasing and sing-song.

Fenris made a sour face, placing the fruit back onto the table. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

She giggled again, causing him to narrow his eyes.

"I know you are but what is this?"

She snorted, amused by his comment. "I said it's a coconut, not I'm a nut."

_What's the difference? _Fenris thought.

Amused by his defiance, Kallian reached across the table and scooped up the fruit in her tiny hands. She raised it level to her face and brought the opening to her lips. Fenris watched as she titled it into her mouth and took a slow sip.

"Mmm," was all she hummed as he watched her gulp down the sweet concoction.

Enticed and enraged all the same by the slow, almost seductive way she sipped from the fruit, Fenris reached for it to snatch out of her hands. She relinquished possession of the coconut to him easily and watched as he brought it to his own mouth. Kallian could tell he was still wary so she tried very hard not to laugh or may any more snide comments. Instead, she grinned. Her sly grin only encouraged him to take a sip and see what was so great for himself. The taste of sweetness danced on each of his taste buds.

Fenris made a face, frowning not out of displeasure or dissatisfaction but rather surprise. "Not bad," he eventually relented in a low mumble.

Kallian chuckled at his surrender, nudging at his tray of food.

"You know," she started, slow and deliberate with her words. "When the fruit ripens, all the liquid disappears and becomes this delectable white meat inside."

She arched an eyebrow, shifting her stare between Fenris and his porridge. "You can press it for oil and milk, and then use it for… several purposes. Isn't that interesting?"

He gave her a quick nod, ambivalent as he put down his tropical beverage and drew his meal closer to him. Kallian laughed low as he took the tray out of her reach, pulling back her arms to fold in her lap. Before Fenris took a bite from his porridge, he eyed the oats suspiciously, remembering her last words.

There was no reason for him to be fearful of it, even if it was coconut milk in his porridge. He'd just drank the fruit's water moments earlier… In fact, he enjoyed it very much. But it was the way Kallian said it. _You can press it for oil and milk… use it for… several purposes._

There was something overtly wicked in her tone. Harmless maybe, but definitely wicked. He swirled his spoon around the edge, mixing the milk in with his oats before looking up at Kallian with a questioning stare. She still wore that insufferable Cheshire grin on her face, watching him avoid his food like it was poisoned.

"I assume this 'milk' is from this 'fruit' then?" he asked dryly.

She burst out laughing, shaking her head. "Oh no," she dismissed. "That's just regular goat's milk."

_Funny_.

Fenris scowled, digging into his breakfast without further ado.

_What a trickster._

Kallian watched him eat. He wanted to ask her why she wasn't have any herself but as usual it was like she'd read his mind again.

"I'm glad you're up. I've been bored for hours! Nothing to do around here till the rain lets up."

She drummed her fingers on the table top, looking up at the ceiling where the rain beat against the thick canvas roof.

He nodded in reply, equally frustrated with the rainfall. "Any ideas when it will?" he asked through his mouthful.

_Hopefully soon? Will we be on our way soon?_

She shrugged her shoulders, still eyeing the ceiling with wide eyes. Fenris thought he'd caught a flash of something sorrowful in them. But it disappeared as quickly as it came when turned to him.

"The women were saying something about an early rainy reason so I don't know…"

Fenris grimaced, though not entirely for the reasons Kallian thought.

"I know, I know. I don't like the idea of being cooped up either but it's not like we can do anything about it. At least it's light in the mornings. Means I can bring back breakfast and such." She shot him a grin, nodding at the half eaten bowl he was polishing off.

_Really? I mean really? I practically called you an idiot last night and you still want to serve me breakfast in bed?_

"You don't have to," Fenris hastily proclaimed, spoon stopping halfway to his mouth. "I can fetch my own meals," he asserted. He didn't fancy the idea of her continuing to tend to him any more than he enjoyed being indebted to her. On top of that, his wound was miraculously healed; he no longer needed a nursemaid to see to his every whim.

But most importantly, Fenris much preferred she didn't get so close to him. She was crawling under his skin, chipping away at him against his willpower against his consent. He wondered if she had this effect on the other slaves she'd encountered during her time in Seheron.

Kallian shook her head and sucked her teeth, making a 'tsking' noise.

"It's not a problem," she offered. "I want to, honest. Plus, Ezra said you need to take it easy. Apparently he didn't think it was funny I dared you to a race yesterday. You're not fully healed."

Fenris looked down at his side. Fingers grazed atop his wound over his linen shirt. Not yet fully healed? Hadn't he just examined it moments earlier? The remnant of his injury was barely visible. It was almost as if it had never happened. What was this nonsense that she spoke of?

"I know it looks like it's all better on the outside but according to the doctor, your insides are still jumbled up."

Was he this transparent? Was he wearing his doubts and emotions plainly on his face? He didn't want to ask; opting to finish his meal in silence while Kallian got up from her seat and moved over to the opposite end of the table.

She began pulling out items from a backpack she'd brought back with her, spreading out bundles of dried herbs and jarred ingredients in neat little piles and rows. Fenris caught a mortar and pestle out of his periphery before dropping his head back to stare into his porridge. It was all gone and he felt a slight discomfort in his belly from being so full. He couldn't remember having eaten so well. Ever. Not ever in this lifetime, at least.

A dismal glimmer of hope crept up upon him. It had been well over two weeks, if not more. If Danarius truly intended to come back for him… wouldn't he have already? He shuddered at the thought, focusing his attention on cleaning up his mess. When he was done, Kallian had already set up a small fire on a tray and hung a pot over the flames on a stand. She glanced up at Fenris as she added more tinder.

"Since we'll have all this free time on our hands, I was wondering if you'd like to help me brew some potions." She drew in her lower lip to chew on as she anxiously awaited his response.

Fenris took a long pause, hesitant to answer.

She sensed his apprehension, walking around the table towards him until they were face to face, separated only by a small space of air. He didn't make a motion to move away, feeling dizzy in her presence of lavender and honey. This time, he blamed it on the large amount of sugar he'd consumed for breakfast.

Kallian looked up at him with her round hazel eyes. They were softer than he was used to seeing. Usually they were filled with fire when she was angry or defensive or impassioned. More often than not, they were sad though she tried very hard to hide that. The only other time he'd seen them so bright was last night… when he'd asked about her family and when she'd spoken so highly of them.

"I promise not to provoke you or start an argument. Scout's honor," she chirped, raising her hand in some kind of salute with her pointer and middle finger pointed upwards. "I've learned my lesson, I swear. _Pretty please_?" That was the only indication she made to last night's 'talk' though it could have applied to some of their other less than savory conversations too.

Her eyes got impossibly bigger… and brighter. Damned his race and their undeniable predisposition for cuteness.

Fenris tried to remain gruff, turning away from her and practically cowering from her pouting.

"I am sure there are other, more important tasks I can facilitate on," he said, voice a little hoarse.

He winced. That probably sounded harsh. A lot harsher than he meant it to come out. Kallian scowled at him, giving him a stern disapproving look and crossing her arms across her chest. Her posture said it all. It said, '_I don't think so, buddy._'

Immediately, Fenris corrected himself. "Right… have to take to easy… 'doctor's orders'."

At that, she smiled and nodded, turning away from him to walk back to her makeshift work station. Fenris stood there a little longer watching her as she crushed dried elfroot and sliced deep mushroom. Eventually, he took a heavy step towards her, expecting a scowl or perhaps a snappy comment. He fully expected her to shoo him away. This wasn't the case. She offered him a small smile and handed over her knife and cutting board.

'Thank you,' she mouthed, moving out of the way to give him room to finish where she'd left off.

For the rest of the day, Fenris and Kallian occupied their time making several health potions and injury kits. Neither of them spoke much. Instead, Kallian filled the silence by reciting verses from the herbalism manuscript and Fenris let her do it since he felt a little heavy with guilt at his biting insult earlier. He had after all, implied she wasn't important.

Sometimes he read along with her. He couldn't _actually_ read, of course but when she read from a paragraph, she would always point to the beginning and narrate till the end. If she knew the truth of his disability, she never let it on nor did she ever ask him to read anything aloud himself. He didn't know if she did it out of pity, but he wasn't about to ask and dig himself into a bigger ditch.

She pointed to an illustration in the book. It was a dissection of elfroot tubular.

"Apparently if you harvest them from a marsh," she inferred from the descriptive paragraph. "It's richer in starch…" Kallian made a funny face, scrunching her brows to meet together.

"Hardly seems like a decent tradeoff, wading around in a marsh for more starch. Don't see how that's beneficial at all…"

Fenris broke out into a small smile, choking on a chuckle that bubbled low in his throat. He couldn't see the benefit either but then again, what did he know about herbalism and botany? When he looked up, he caught her staring. The corner of her lips twitched, like they wanted to curl into a smile of her own. He felt silly like a deer startled and quickly looked away, turning back to his mortar and the sticky brown paste in it.

She broke the silence again with a feigned cough, setting down her ladle. "How about I bring us something to eat? I bet it's past mid-day meal." Her eyes smiled and she left before he could protest.

When she returned, he had already forgotten that he was supposed to chide her for her servitude. The aromatic smell of lemongrass and curry filled the room almost immediately after she stepped in. They ate heartily before resuming work on the potions.

To his surprise, Fenris learned a lot more about first aid and herbalism than he ever expected to or thought to care for. By the end of the day, they'd make several crates full of the most potent potions possible according to the recipes within the book. Almost enough to service a whole army if need be.

They stacked the crates neatly by the tent's entrance. While Kallian cleaned up, putting away the tools and supplies, Fenris moved over to lie down in his bed roll. He watched her from his reclined position. She was steady and deliberate in her movements with an unmistakable aura of confidence about her.

He admired it, envied it even if he could never admit it to himself. Being around her was changing him, spurning questions and beliefs he'd thought had died long ago when he ceased to remember his past and accepted that his life would be nothing but a slave.

She was killing him… slowly but surely, she was killing him with kindness. And the Fenris to be reborn and risen from the ashes would be forever indebted to her no matter what he did to try and repay it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The days blended in together for Fenris. He always woke up near high noon and fell asleep shortly after nightfall. The stormy clouds and thick jungle overgrowth did little to help him decipher the division of days. Only when everything turned dark did he realize a day had passed.

He and Kallian fell into a routine fairly quickly, which wasn't hard to do considering they spent most of their time confined to their tent. Well, at least Fenris did. For the most of the week, they spent their days making potions, draughts, and poultices to add to the Fog warriors' stockpile. He could not shake the feeling something important, something big, was looming upon them but he didn't voice it since the chores gave them something to do with all their free time. His only gripe was the rain, which persisted much longer than he had expected and was the sole reason he was still cooped up in their tent. Both Kallian and Ezra insisted he simply relax and enjoy the pampering treatment.

When they weren't working on alchemy, they cleaned gear and sharpened weapons. All types of activities one does when they are 'taking it easy.' Kallian excelled at most of their chores with the exception of mending socks… and shirts… and trousers and other linens. He spent most of that particular day fixing her errors. He hadn't minded since she'd brought him candied ginger to snack on while he worked.

Most of his gripes were easily ceased by the food Kallian brought him each and every day despite his protests of fetching them himself. She was unrelenting and insisted it was her responsibility to take care of him on Ezra's orders, of course. In between their activities, she piled him with exotic pastries and meal spreads far more tantalizing than anything served in Danarius' estate.

Fenris found himself waking up to succulent smells daily. Long gone were the rituals of smoke and spice by mid-week. Instead, he woke up greeted to sweet rolls baked fresh that morning and infused with black berries or crushed almonds and glazed with honey or accompanied with a cinnamon sweet butter to spread. While they worked, she showered him with candies or sweet dates and figs to nibble on, and for supper he enjoyed roasted or braised meats, skewered vegetables, and sometimes thick stews steamed with lemongrass and curry and tamarind. Surprisingly delicious smelling and delightful to eat.

He was eating well. Better than well. He was thoroughly well-fed each and every day, far more than he had ever expected to eat in his lifetime, sampling a cuisine that was both foreign and satisfying.

She was killing him through gluttony. Kindness _and_gluttony. He was definitely sure of it now.

Each meal, Fenris ate to his heart's content, till the laces of his trousers needed to be loosened because as soon as he cleared his plateful, Kallian would swiftly filled it again with more helpings and who was he to say no? His frame even filled out more. There was a round plumpness to his cheeks and frame that he'd never seen before; the feeling of being satiated still new to him. He could no longer get away with scarfing down his meals in a hurry. She chided him to slow down and savor new flavors and textures, to try and shake away the beaten-in instinct to eat quickly or be punished otherwise.

At times, she brought him new fruits, like the pineapple and coconut he had sampled last week, to snack on along with the pastries and candies. He could tell she relished in his wary behavior and cautious approach to the exotic. So she teased him about it.

"You're cute when you squirm about," Kallian had said with a wolfish grin, handing him a plateful of orange colored fruit chunks. She'd peeled its green and red skin with a swift flick of her knife and discarded the oblong stone pits in separate vase. "You make the funniest faces sometimes, Fenris."

"Why are you saving the seed?" He asked, ignoring her observation. "For more oil, I presume?" That was meant to be sarcastic but Kallian had thrown her head back in a hearty laugh deflecting his tone.

"Yes! How'd you know?" She excitedly exclaimed. "They'll press them for oil and store it in jars for trade later, whenever we'll reach Seheron. Apparently it's quite popular in Antiva where the air is dry and days are long and hot."

He quirked a brow, hastily stuffing his mouth full of mango fruit. _Long and hot. Oh Maker._

In an attempt to rid his mind of such lecherous thoughts, Fenris immersed himself in the day's chores.

That very same evening she'd somehow managed to conjure a steaming mug of hot cocoa topped with whipped cream instead of his daily prescription of tea. He accepted it with the same caution and delightful curiosity he had for all their meals, eyeing particularly at the dollop of cream that was melting into the rich cocoa liquid in milky white rivulets.

"Our little secret," she whispered, winking at him and bringing a finger to press against her pretty little mouth. He didn't even realize he had been staring at it till she made such a small motion.

Anxious to occupy his mouth and prevent something foolish from being blurted out, Fenris dug in, mouthwatering, and took a large hot gulp of the steaming liquid. He managed to scald his tongue _and_ smear the cream on his nose at the same time, adding all the more to the humiliation he felt.

Kallian laughed at him not in a malicious or cruel way but rather bemused and playfully. He spun curses in his native Tevinter tongue as his mouth hung agape to cool off his burnt tongue. Distracted by the mild stinging pain, he allowed her to take his mug from his hands and set it aside. He all but glared at her when she brought a hand up to wipe the smear of cream away from the tip of his nose. And without thinking, Kallian brought the cream to her lips and licked it clean off her finger, promptly dissolving all coherent thought from his mind.

The anger dissipated, smoldering into flushed embarrassment. He turned an unusually deep shade of crimson and looked away, coughing awkwardly as he moved to lie down on his bed roll. His mind instantly wandered to earlier that day when she had brought him a basket full of mangos, and then peeled and served them to him.

"They'll press them for oil," she had said.

_Mmm… oil. Sweet and fragrant. Slick on skin. Glistening in the hot Antivan sun._

Fenris gulped thickly again, shaking his head to chase away the lewd images flooding his mind. He scolded himself instantly. Such thoughts, such desires were not permitted of a slave. Pleasure, happiness, aspiration; all notions taboo and forbidden for elves of his stature.

Ah, but then again he was no longer a slave, was he? How could he still be? Danarius hadn't come for him after all. Yet, anyways. He kept that thought tucked away at the back of his mind still.

His nose twitched, the ghost of her touch lingering at the tip of it. It spurned more racing thoughts, though of less salacious nature. Lying on his side and facing away from her, he pondered on the same questions without answers that he'd been thinking on since he'd met her. Why does she do all of this? Why does she insist on taking care of him, feeding him delicious food, tending to his wellbeing? She was dangerously treading the fine line of selflessness and downright foolish, being criminally helpful.

She was kind, too kind. A person like that isn't without secrets or demons of their own, and he had yet to uncover them. He wasn't sure if he wanted to. It could shatter the almost perfect (though he'd never admit it aloud, much less to himself) image of her that he cherished and again, he'd _never_ admit that aloud.

He wondered time and again how she does it, how she maintained a smile in such a bleak, gloomy world? But he knew the answer to that. She had faith, and hope, and family. Things he never had but could somewhat start to see, start to understand. Like a glimmer of light at the end of a very long, treacherous tunnel.

After some time feigning sleep and waiting for her to blow out the light to the lamp, Fenris sat up and picked up his untouched mug of hot cocoa. It was cool now, no longer scalding, but not yet cold. And because she wasn't looking, he drank it down quickly and quietly not wanting the treat to go to waste.

Fenris savored it like it was the last beverage he'd ever drink, just like he savored every meal she served him, every sweet roll she brought him each morning, and all the fruit and candy she introduced him to.

That night Fenris didn't sleep well, and slipped in and out of the Fade every hour or so.

There were butterflies fluttering in his gut but he didn't feel sick or queasy. He felt warm and cold at the same time but definitely not sick or feverish, and he had a sneaking suspicion that his terrible night's rest was due to the fact that he'd skipped out on last evening's medicine.

Hours later, he heard rustling next to him. It was still dark but he figured it must have been morning time and Kallian was stirring awake. A thought struck him. At last, he could catch her before she left and see where she spent her mornings, and especially where she recovered the delicacies he adored feasting on.

He could make out her outline faintly in the dark, and watched as she pulled on layers of clothing and moved about to fix her bed roll and furs. She was almost out of the tent when he called out to stop her with a half groan, half yawn.

"Good morning," he greeted, trying desperately not to sound anxious and sleepy.

It was too dark to see her expression though he was sure it was probably surprised and guilty by the tone in her voice.

"Oh I'm sorry Fenris," she whispered back. "Did I wake you up?"

_No. I've been awake all night. I couldn't sleep. Because of you._

"Where are you going?" He asked, unable to shake the almost instinctual feeling of suspicion creeping up on him.

_Fenris, you are being unnecessarily paranoid._

_No, Fenris, she could be up to something._

_Shut up._

Kallian made a face he couldn't see and hurriedly replied, "Oh, um, morning chores. Off to see Ezra and fetch some breakfast."

"Chores? What chores?" This caught Fenris by surprise which washed over into guilt as she went on to explain how every morning since their arrival she had been woken up far too early for her comfort due to the persistent showers. To occupy her abundant free time, she ventured towards the center of their little tent village and was 'taken in', so to speak, by the Fog warrior matriarchs.

Kallian went on to describe how each morning she would help them with their morning duties, such as herb picking, crop harvesting, laundry washing, and meal cooking, and that before returning to Fenris with a meal tray, she would seek out Namir for a chore for him to do – figuring that Fenris would be bored out of his mind without something to occupy his time with.

Much to his chagrin, he was grateful for her consideration. It _would _have driven him insane being cooped up in tent with nothing to do. The little chores she brought for him made him feel useful. Her confession of the rainfall causing her unease was both comforting and startling too. He hadn't thought a little bit of pitter patter made her restless; he had always assumed she was a heavy sleeper since their first night together.

Her revelation made him feel lazy and guilty for not pulling his own weight even though she had maintained many times that he was doing enough, just fine, and should just 'take it easy.' It wasn't something Fenris could stand for any longer.

"Take me with you. I would like to help," he finally answered after a long pause, determined to be of more use.

There was some shuffling. Kallian shifted on her feet, the corners of her mouth were pulled down. "No, it's alright," she insisted, "You don't –"

He interrupted her with simple words, "I want to." It wasn't fair, he thought, that she did nearly twice the amount of work as him, tended to his injury, and fetched his meals for him like he was a toddler; if only he had been this lucky and well cared for as a toddler, not that he remembered anyways.

Kallian cringed a little, even in the dark Fenris could read the discomfort in the lines of her eyes. It caught him off guard. Was there something she wasn't telling him? Was there more to what she had already divulged? He raised a brow, both bewildered and somewhat offended by her reaction.

"What?" He demanded.

She cringed again and made a squeaky noise that sounded like, "Ehhhh… Umm…"

He demanded again, this time more firmly.

Kallian reached around her neck, scratching her shoulders, and fidgeting in her spot nervously. She shifted her eyes, looking anywhere but directly at him and nibbled on her lower lip as she searched for the right words… the _appropriate_ words to answer him.

"Well… I didn't quite take you as a… a social butterfly? Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable here? Where it's nice and warm… and dry…" The tone in her voice was terribly unconvincing, trailing off at the end like that. Her words nipped at Fenris; it felt strangely insulting and he was not one easily insulted.

He huffed in exasperation, jutting his chin out and scowling. "I can be sociable," he briskly countered, trying not to sound as nervous as he was feeling.

She shrugged her shoulders, reluctantly agreeing to his request. With a silent nod, she beckoned to him to get ready and walked outside to wait for him.

It took him little time to pull on an extra shirt. Out of the furs, he hadn't realized how much chillier it was in the morning time. The sun had barely risen; it was still dark outside save for the burning light that flickered in between tents from the center of the camp. It rose high and roared fierce in spite of the morning dew and dusk's drizzle. Fenris rubbed the tired from his eyes as Kallian dragged him towards the center, towards the light. He eyed the shadows warily, peering up at the tree tops and around the outskirts of their camp situated in the thick of the jungle.

The distance between them and the fire was short. Its blinding light strained his tired eyes. He could hear rustling and the soft whispers of feminine voices, both young and old, gathered in and around a particularly large tent house. Kallian entered first, leading him in by holding the flap open.

"Kallian! What took you so long? We've been waiting for you–"

The moment Fenris stepped over the threshold, there was a hush of silence as everyone ceased their activities to look up and stare at him. He swore he heard a wolf-whistle from somewhere deep in the corner.

They were staring at him, at his tattoos, at his ghost-white hair, at the fact that he was the only male in the room. They stared at him for what seemed like an eternity before a bronzed amazon with curly dark hair stepped forward wearing a grin that seemed all too familiar and mischievous.

She reached out and placed a palm on Kallian's shoulder, giving the pixie elf a brief amiable shake. "Finally Kallian, you've brought the hermit out of his shell. We had begun to think we'd never catch a glimpse of your _husband _you keep so well-hid away," she declared in a deep sultry voice that made the hairs on the back of Fenris' neck prickle.

At the mention of the word husband, Kallian chortled, choking on a rapid intake of air.

Fenris replied for her, "We're not married."

The Fog warrioress glanced down at their hands, eyes glinting when she realized there was an absence of rings on their fingers. "Oh," she responded. "Sorry, I didn't see the resemblance."

That was a lie. There was little resemblance between Fenris and Kallian, except for the fact that they were both elves and not even from the same nations. "We're not siblings either," he tersely countered, shooting a sideways glance at Kallian who'd been curiously silent throughout the exchange.

A sharp nudge at her ribs from the Fog warrior's elbow shook her out of her reverie. The simply gesture prompted Kallian to finally speak up, nudging back at the dusky woman with her own elbow. "Ziva!" She exclaimed. "How many times have I told you? We're just travelling together!"

Fenris raised a surprised brow at Kallian. _You talk about me?_

She hid from him, deliberately shifting her body to avoid his gaze. He was shocked, speechless even. What does one say or do in a situation like this? Should he have been… flattered? Ziva, the Fog warrior-amazon woman laughed, loud and boisterous, clapping her large hand down on Kallian's back. "I jest, I jest!" She turned to Fenris, winking at him with that all too familiar toothy grin. "It's nice to _finally_ meet you, Fenris, is it? Welcome."

The only appropriate response Fenris could come up with was to simply nod. Another sideways glance to Kallian revealed she was still turned away from him, probably blushing furiously or fuming with embarrassment at Ziva, or perhaps both. Her curt voice cut through the laughter rumbling throughout the hall, her mild disdain dripping thickly in her tone. "Alright, alright. Ha. Ha. Now that we've all had a good laugh at my expense, let's get on with the harvest before the rain drowns us all, yeah?" Kallian made a sour face that Fenris didn't catch but he did notice the scowling expression Ziva made behind her back.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN**:_ Sorry for the long wait.

Many thanks to _Billini_, _FeZeTh13_, _Leeirane_, and _Jakob the Girl_ for the kind reviews, and to everyone who has favourited or alerted this story.


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